


Back Home Where My Jigsaw Heart Sings

by AliceinHyruleBastion



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, Fluff galore, I should probably add "established relationship" in here huh, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Reunion, Soulmate AU: Heterochromia, This is one of the sappiest things I've written dear lord, also teasing, this year's follow-up with my OC's!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-16 05:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 25,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10564983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceinHyruleBastion/pseuds/AliceinHyruleBastion
Summary: "Absence makes the heart grow fonder."Bullshit.If anything, it makes the heart cold, desperate, lonely-It's REUNION that brings that flare of love back to life, no matter the miles between you.Iwaizumi hasn't seen Oikawa in four years, and yet he hasn't let that stop him from wanting to hold his hand again.He has bided his time, and can't wait to see his best(boy)friend again.





	1. Jigsaw

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsyaboikawa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsyaboikawa/gifts).



> Hi!
> 
> Back again with the uploads! This fic was actually a Christmas gift for my lovely beta and IwaOi hoe of a sister, who urged me to post this. This is honestly so sappy I have no idea, just go with it. Also I'm a slut for soulmate AU's so.... just roll with it.
> 
> Also, Takeshi Yoichi and Kirishima Shou are my own, and if you'd be curious to see a sequel with the two, let me know! (My sister keeps bugging me to write one anyway so)
> 
> As always, comments and critiques are highly appreciated!  
> I hope you enjoy!

 

Iwaizumi Hajime is not a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. He speaks succinctly, and his face is stoic apart from when irritation or the rare laugh breaks.

He’s an interesting man, to say the least, and is a hard person to read, as he tucks all of his turmoil and pain and love underneath the layers of himself.

 

But his eyes, oh his _eyes;_ they hold so much depth in a silent language that not even his closest friends were able to decipher. They showed the true gravity of his emotions, and yet were hidden in dual colors: His left one a deep, ancient forest green (his own), and the other a warm chocolate amber (his soulmate’s).

 

There was only one who could speak the language of the stars in his eyes, and yet he was the one who was the furthest from Hajime.

 

So here he waits, so many years after graduation, held together by nothing more than strings of fate tied through computer screens and voices split through pixels and time differences.

 

It’s been four years since Hajime let his best friend (and the love of his life) slip through his fingers, falling falling falling until they stood on opposite sides of the world: he in Tokyo, while his other half was in San Diego, all the way in America.

 

And now, he was coming home.

 

And Hajime didn’t know what the feel.

 

***

 

Iwaizumi still had friends, of course, like the new ones he made his first year of college (Takeshi and Kirishima, the roommates who lived next to him), as well as the terrible twos duo Hanamaki and Matsukawa (they were all innuendos and sly grins and laughter, all mixed in with matching mismatched eyes and pinkies hooked together) who visited him from time to time through his trek in college.

 

Glancing up from his phone with a sigh, he looked out of the dorm window to see dark clouds hanging low over the horizon, and he shivered despite himself. It was about five days until Christmas, and he was a mess of anxiety and stress, to which the dark circles under his eyes could attest to. He was already ass-deep tests and last-minute projects, and his mind was functioning on nothing more than coffee and old leftovers. He hadn’t left his dorm in about two days, and his rumpled pajamas and unsightly appearance made him wrinkle his nose. He huffed and pushed himself out of his seat, trundling his way to the bathroom to shower.

 

After shutting the door behind him, he started the water and paused when he caught his reflection in mirror. Same dark skin, same wild hair, and same stern expression littered with faint freckles over the bridge of his nose, and yet… it was as if it all _fit_ him so much better- as if he’d grown into his features. He met his eyes in the mirror, and felt his stomach jump nervously when he saw the brown of his right eye. His fingers unconsciously ran over the cord dangling around his neck, which he kept tucked under his shirt from prying eyes. (The only person who knew about his soulmate was his mother, though Makki and Mattsun had a strong inkling) He swallowed, and carefully slid the cord off before getting in the shower.

 

He took a deep breath, letting the steam of the shower clear his head, but he was still drawn back to his anxiety. Last week, _he_ had said he was finally coming back to Japan for Christmas, as there was finally a break that perfectly matched up Iwaizumi’s. He had sounded so excited on the phone, and yet Iwaizumi had heard just a hint of something tentative hiding under his words.

 

Was Iwaizumi nervous at seeing him again? At being able to hold his hand freely? At being able to love him without having to hide it behind the title of “best friend”?

 

No, that wasn’t it. (Iwaizumi’s mind flickered back to their promise made through computer screens, that left tears in the words’ wake)

 

_Only a few more days, Hajime._

 

His eyes slid shut as the hot water fell down his back.

 

***

 

“Did you get all of the tickets booked properly?” Iwaizumi huffed into the phone, shifting it as he reached to grab his mug.

 

 _“Of course I did, dummy! I even double-checked,”_ the other end answered.

 

Iwaizumi snorted. “Are you sure? ‘Cause last time you flew somewhere you forgot to book your hotel and went to the wrong luggage claim,” he answered.

 

Take shot a look at Kirishima, and they both laughed silently.

 

 _“Rude, Iwa-chan! That was one time!”_ his complained.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

_“And I was half-asleep!”_

 

“Because _you_ insisted on a movie marathon the night before your flight.”

 

_“I- uh…”_

 

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, and just raised a smug eyebrow despite the fact that the recipient couldn’t see it.

 

A puff of breath came through the speakers, and Iwaizumi almost laughed. “I can hear you pouting from over here, stupid,” he snarked, and his eyes shifted to his friends as they cracked up, their laughter interrupting the conversation.

 

 _“Oh, are those your college friends you told me about?”_ Iwaizumi heard, and he rolled his eyes at the poorly-disguised saccharine bitterness.

 

“Relax, they’re just the _friends_ I told you about who’re coming with me to pick you up,” he said, and held out the phone to the two at their confused looks. “Say hi guys, he thinks I’m replacing him again,” he said sarcastically, and smirked when he heard an offended _“Hey!”_ squawk from the other end.

 

“Hello again, best-friend-of-Iwaizumi who we still don’t know, the name’s Kirishima Shou,” one of them said dryly, mouth drawn in a sarcastic smirk as he pushed dark hair out of his eyes.

 

 _“Well damn, if I didn’t know any better I’d say that was Mattsun with that sarcasm,”_ the voice replied after a beat of silence,  and Iwaizumi laughed.

 

“Not quite as ‘flamingly gay’, as he’d say,”  he replied, and he heard a sweet laugh ring out from the other end.

 

 _“Well, you aren’t wrong ,”_ the voice said, the words bitten out between poorly-repressed laughter.

 

“The other one is Takeshi Yoichi, as I've mentioned before,” Iwaizumi said, and Take chirped a quiet “Hi” back in response before sitting back, going back to his book.

 

 _“Quiet one, hm?”_ he said when Iwaizumi pulled the phone back, turning speaker back off.

 

Iwaizumi glanced at Take, watching him pull the pale blue locks of loose hair behind his ear as his eyes skimmed the book in his lap. Iwaizumi didn’t miss the infinitesimally small moments where Take's eyes flickered over to Kirishima, who was immersed in his phone. “Yeah, he is.”

 

The voice on the other end hummed before responding. _“Does he have a thing for the other one? Kirishima, was it?”_ he said suddenly, and Iwaizumi choked.

 

“How...?” he said dumbly, earning a curious glance from the other two.

 

 _“Lucky guess. We seem to keep encountering situations like this,_ ” he replied.

 

“I guess you could say that,” Iwaizumi said, albeit a bit sadly.

 

(Your eyes don't change color until you fall in love with your soulmate to ensure the perfect match, and while Take’s eyes (his left a sweet gray and the other a sky blue) had only changed recently- much to his embarrassment and flustered denial- Kirishima’s remained a solid blue (he was still futilely pining after a waitress in the coffee shop they went to, but obviously Fate had a funny turn in store for him). Iwaizumi watched them like a train wreck waiting to happen.)

 

There was a pause, and Iwaizumi could taste the hesitation. _“Speaking of,”_ he started, _“do they…?”_

 

“No,” he said suddenly, flinching at the sharpness of his tone. “No, they don’t. I didn’t tell them.” Iwaizumi’s fingers ran over the cord under his shirt.

 

_“ ... Oh.”_

 

“They don’t know about _that ,”_ Iwaizumi stuttered, realizing his mistake. “It’s not that- I-”

 

 _“I know,  I know, it’s okay, Iwa-chan,”_ the recipient answered, a little too brightly.

 

Iwaizumi breathed out slowly, eyes slipping shut as he slid down in his chair. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit nervous about it, okay? You know they aren’t as lenient about it as here as they are in America.”

 

 _“It’ll be fine,”_ he said softly, and Iwaizumi felt a soft smile creep up.

 

“ **See you soon,** ” Iwaizumi muttered hesitantly in English, and he heard another laugh.

 

_“Hey, your accent is improving!”_

 

Iwaizumi grumbled into the receiver. “I tried.”

 

 _“I never said you didn’t,”_  the voice crowed.

 

“Oh hush. I’ll see you on Saturday, okay?” he said.

 

 _“I can’t wait to see you,”_ the othersaid softly, and oddly sincere.

 

“Me too,” Iwaizumi said warmly, and could practically hear the smile from the other end.

 

He clicked the line off and set his phone down, meeting the curious looks of the other two.

 

“You good, man?” Kirishima asked.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I'm good,” Iwaizumi answered.

 

Iwaizumi hadn't told them that his friend and his soulmate were one and the same, and was anxious about when they finally found out. Would they be angry for not telling him? Or would they be okay?

This was yet _another_ point he was worried about.

 

“What time is his flight?” Take spoke up, startling Iwaizumi.

 

“He gets in at eight in the morning, so we’ll have to show up a bit earlier,” he answered.

 

Kirishima let out a groan. “Aw man, that's so _early,”_ he complained, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes.

 

“It’s not even that early, Shou,” Takeshi chided, jabbing him in the ribs with the spine of his book and causing Kirishima to squeal and scoot away. “I'll make sure you get up on time for once.”

 

“Fine, fine, I promise,  just don’t _tickle_ me, okay?” Kirishima whined, and the normally sugar-sweet face of Take grew dark and mischievous as he set his book down and wiggled his fingers.

 

“I’m not so sure about that,” Take said teasingly, and dove after Kirishima’s sides (who let out a very uncharacteristic yelp), knocking them both sideways on the couch.

 

Iwaizumi laughed at the sight, and could feel the curious glances of other cafe-goers on the two.

 

Eventually, after one of Kirishima’s hands ended up pressed into Take’s face while Take had death grip on his head, the two eventually sat back up giggling and out of breath, Kirishima’s dark spikes now completely mussed and disheveled while Take’s pale skin was flushed red from laughing. (Out of context, it looked as if the two had just been caught in the middle of a wild make-out session.)

 

Iwaizumi quirked an eyebrow at them. “If you two are done, can we go back to the dorms now?” he said dryly, earning a sheepish smile from the two.

 

“Sorry, Iwaizumi,” Take apologized.

 

Kirishima huffed a laugh, hands trying to brush his hair back into some semblance of normality. Take side-eyed him before swatting his knee.

 

“Oi!”

 

“What?” Take asked innocently.

 

“C’mon you two,” Iwaizumi piped up, attempting not to laugh.

 

“But _Moooom,_ Take’s being mean!” Kirishima whined dramatically as they stood up.

 

“I’m not your mom,” Iwaizumi answered instinctively, tucking his phone into his pocket and pulling his jacket on.

 

The rest of the walk back was mostly uneventful, spare for minor jabs (both verbal and physical) between his two friends. He smiled at the sight, and sincerely hoped Fate would be kinder to them than it was to him.

 

***

 

The rest of the  days had passed blurrily, all tinged in that stomach-fluttery feeling that left Iwaizumi uncharacteristically fidgety in the back of Kirishima’s car. They were on their way to the airport (thankfully with only minor mishaps) and yet, even the gorgeous streaks of auburn and red painting the sky and chasing away the sleepy night couldn’t distract him.

 

_How would it feel to greet him in person after all of these years?_

  _Would he be happy? (Of course he would, stupid)_

  _Would he be just as nervous as I was?_

 

It was these thoughts, amongst others, spiraling through Iwaizumi’s head ( _Would he be taller? Would he still smell of home?)_  as the car sped down the highway.

 

His eyes were trained blankly out the window, though more on the smudges of the glass than the sky, when he felt Take in front of him shift and turn around to face him. “Are you alright, Iwaizumi? You’ve been rather…. quiet.”  He trailed off suddenly, and Iwaizumi met his eyes in confusion. Take's gaze flicked down to Iwaizumi’s chest before continuing. “What is that around your neck?” he asked.

 

Iwaizumi froze and looked down, realizing that he had unintentionally pulled the cord out from around his neck and had been playing with it absently while deep in thought.

 

Before Iwaizumi could respond, he saw Kirishima’s blue eyes meet his in the rearview mirror and widen. “Is that a r-?”

 

“It’s nothing,” he lied, slipping it back under the collar of his shirt and hastily zipping his coat shut. Take gave him a funny look, but didn’t say anything before he turned back around, and he saw him nudge Kirishima into silence before he could open his mouth.

 

The rest of car ride was uneventful, though still littered with bickering between the two roommates (“Ugh, skip this song!” “No, I like it, keep it on.” “Yoichi, please, this is the seventh time today you’ve played this.” “Well, _I_ like it!” “ _Skip. It_.” “Nope.”), and they eventually pulled up to Haneda Airport, a good forty-five minutes before the San Diego flight was due in.

 

Iwaizumi stepped out the car and stretched, only to immediately wince when a gust of cold bit through his coat. Sure, the temperature was unpleasant, but the sharp smell of coming snow and the flush of cold on his cheeks certainly brought out the true love of winter.

 

 _I’m sure_ he’ll _complain, but winter is still his favorite season,_  Iwaizumi thought to himself with small smile. He turned to the others when he heard the other doors slam close, and watched as Kirishima noisily stretched, not missing the blush that lit up Take’s face when a strip of dark skin slid into view as his coat rucked up. Iwaizumi gave Take a look, and he shrugged, embarrassed.

 

“Come on, let’s get inside before we freeze our asses off,” Kirishima called, and Iwaizumi nodded, leading them in.

 

***

 

“So,” Kirishima started, hands wrapped around a cup of freshly-bought coffee, “what’s he like, anyway? Your friend.”

 

“We’ve only heard snippets about him from you and your other two friends from your time together in high school,” Take added.

 

The three had trekked into the food court of the airport, and were surrounded by a hubbub of voices and smells and people curling around them. They had grabbed a quick coffee by the shop near the entrance and had snagged a table near a window, which Iwaizumi was beginning to regret as the cold of the surface began to seep into his coat.

 

Iwaizumi set his own cup down, and rested his cheek in the bowl of his palm. “Honestly? I don’t know the best way to describe him,” he hummed. “Though, I _guess_ I could start with ‘pretentious dumbass’.”

 

Kirishima and Take froze and burst out laughing at the comment. “What? Just ‘cause he’s my childhood friend doesn’t mean I have to be nice to him,” Iwaizumi retorted, and they laughed harder.

 

“I have to say, I wasn’t expecting _that,”_ Kirishima choked out.

 

Iwaizumi fixed him with a deadpan look. “Once you meet him, I think you’ll know what I mean.”

 

Kirishima held his hands up in mock surrender. “If you say so,” he ceded, returning to his coffee.

 

“If there’s something he can complain about, he’ll find it,” Iwaizumi continued. “He’s also notoriously picky about his appearance, not to mention ridiculously needy, and yet…” he trailed off. “He’s got the eye of a fox, and nothing gets past him. He can strip you down to the soul with just a look, and can be rather frightening when he wants to, that is when he’s being _serious_ for once in his life.”

 

Take nudged his foot from across the table. “You’re smiling,” he noted warmly, and Iwaizumi could feel that there was indeed a small smile etched onto his face. He felt his cheeks grow warm as he shifted his palm to cover his mouth.

 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen each other?” Kirishima asked, curious at Iwaizumi's reaction.

 

“Going on four years now,” he mumbled, and Kirishima let out a whistle.

 

“Damn,” he drawled, and Iwaizumi nodded.

 

“You must really miss him, then,” Take said softly, and Iwaizumi’s gaze shifted to him.

 

He didn’t answer for a bit, mulling over an answer. “Well… yeah, after being glued to the hip since age five, it was kind of weird to go through college without hearing his obnoxious voice whining in my ear every ten seconds,” he answered, though he could feel the lie simmering under his skin.

 

_I miss his voice. I miss being able to walk across the street for late-night movie sessions. I miss his jabbering complaints. I miss going out to dinner with him after a hard game, or making sure he takes care of himself._

_I miss him._

 

Iwaizumi saw them giving him odd looks at the sudden silence, but before they could say anything, an automated voice blared out from the speakers above them:

 

**_“SAN DIEGO TO TOKYO, SAN DIEGO TO TOKYO NOW LANDING.”_ **

 

He felt his heart jump at the announcement, and his fingers traced the cord under his shirt.

 

The other two shot him an expectant look, and he nodded. “That’s him.”

 

They headed out of the food court and skirted around the hordes of people in the main commons, all scanning for the right luggage claim.

 

“We’ll have to wait for him to go through customs, so it’ll be a little bit longer,” Iwaizumi said as they came to a stop outside the claim, and plopped down in the benches there.

 

Kirishima lolled his head back with a groan, and Iwaizumi saw Take roll his eyes as he sat down beside him. “You wanna play hangman while we wait?” Take asked quietly, and I saw Kirishima give him a wicked grin.

 

“Get ready to get have your ass handed to you,” he taunted, and Iwaizumi heard Take snort as he pulled out his phone, tapping it open.

 

“How old are you again, Shou?” he teased, sweetly enough to sound innocent, but they all knew better.

 

“Bring it on,” he answered, and Iwaizumi saw Take shake his head at him, laughing, his light hair falling into his face.

 

Kirishima reached out and tucked the strands behind Take’s ear, and they both froze, faces going pink. Kirishima’s hand was frozen by Take’s face.

 

“You-”

 

“Uh-”

 

They started talking at the same time, and both lurched back as they stopped speaking.

 

“I don’t… I don’t know why I did that,” Kirishima stuttered.

 

“No no, it’s fine,”  Take waved off awkwardly.

 

They stared at each other for a few more seconds before Iwaizumi coughed, startling them out of their pink-cheeked staring contest.

 

“Here, you go first,” Take blurted, shoving his phone into Kirishima’s gloved hands.

 

Kirishima made a noise of bewilderment before looking down at the screen, decidedly _not_ looking at his friend.

 

Iwaizumi smiled secretly to himself, and jumped a bit when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He slid it out to see that he had two messages waiting for him:

 

**_[8:02] To: me_ **

_iwa-chan, i’m finally here!!! <3 <3 _

**_[8:10] To: me_ **

_god DAMN i did not miss the crowds holy shit_

 

He barked a surprised laugh at the total flip in mood, and typed out a response.

 

**_[8:15] To: Idiot_ **

_Welcome back_

**_[8:15] To: Idiot_ **

_How’s customs treating you?_

 

He got a familiar barrage of responses nearly instantly.

 

**_[8:16] To: me_ **

_ugh don’t get me started_

**_[8:17] To: me_ **

_this jackass in the awful coat has been complaining to the operator because his booze got confiscated and he’s holding up the line_

**_[8:17] To: me_ **

_i should have been out fairly quickly but no, this asshole had to be a BITCH and now i’m stuck here at the end waiting for this idiot to calm down_

 

**_[8:18] To: Idiot_ **

_You said you're almost out right_

**_[8:18] To: Idiot_ **

_So focus on that and try to relax_

 

**_[8:19] To: me_ **

_ugh_

 

**_[8:20] To: Idiot_ **

_I'm not going anywhere._

 

There was a pause in the responses, until a short one buzzed in that made Iwaizumi’s heart melt.

 

**_[8:23] To: me_ **

_I know, Iwa-chan, and I love you for it._

 

**_[8:24] To: Idiot_ **

_Feeling sappy today?_

 

**_[8:25] To: me_ **

_shush_

**_[8:26] To: me_ **

_hey the line’s finally moving i think i get to go_

**_[8:26] To: me_ **

_bless_

 

**_[8:27] To: Idiot_ **

_See you soon then_

 

He clicked his phone off and slid it back into his coat pocket, turning back towards the other two fully immersed in their strangely intense game of hangman. “He should be on his way out,” he told them, and got a half-nod of affirmation as they kept going.

 

“Is it… T?”

 

“No, it's not T, you already guessed that.”

 

“What? Ah, dammit.”

 

“You suck at this game, Shou.”

 

“Oi! You're the one who couldn't get _airport_.”

 

“You told me there weren’t any A’s!”

 

“No, I didn't.”

 

“Yes you did.”

 

“Nuh-uh!”

 

“You did, Kirishima,” Iwaizumi answered dryly.

 

Kirishima’s jaw dropped, and looked at Take with an offended look. Take giggled and tapped another letter on his phone.

 

“You two are so mean!” Kirishima whined.

 

“No, you're just dumb,” Iwaizumi quipped, and Take snorted violently.

 

Iwaizumi heard a smack and an _“Ow!”_ from Take. Iwaizumi shook his head.

 

 _Idiots,_ he thought fondly. _At least they aren't as bad as Hanamaki and Matsukawa._

 

 _Buzz._ Another message.

 

**_[8:32] To: me_ **

_FREEDOM AT LAST_

 

He looked up to see a flood of people break from the customs line and he scanned the faces, looking, _looking_ for the right puzzle piece to himself. _Where is he?_

 

“Is he out yet, Iwaizumi?” Take asked, and Iwaizumi shook his head, not turning to look at him.

 

“Not yet, but he said he was done,” Iwaizumi answered.

 

Nothing, nothing, nothing-

Then, he heard it:

 

“Hajime!”

 

Iwaizumi's head whipped towards the sound and saw a figure dressed in a long light-brown coat unzipped to reveal a green Christmas sweater (the goofy alien one Iwaizumi had sent him last year for Christmas). He was wearing his glasses, Iwaizumi noted, and his brown hair was windblown.

 

Iwaizumi broke into a huge grin as their eyes met and watched as the other started running towards him, a broad smile on his face.

 

(It was now, Iwaizumi realized, that it wasn't anxiousness or even nervousness that he had been feeling for the last week-

It had been pure _giddiness.)_

 

He opened his arms, and felt the other smash into his chest, jumping up and wrapping his lanky legs around Iwaizumi’s hips and burrowing his head into the crook of his neck, arms tight around his neck, and Iwaizumi felt the vibration of a laugh buzz through him and squeezed him tighter; he felt happier than he had in so long (so complete, so _perfect_ ).

 

(Neither of them cared about the stares they were probably getting.)

 

Eventually, they leaned back far enough that their faces were bare inches apart from the other, and Iwaizumi could feel the flushed joy and happiness, and saw the perfectly-mismatched eyes of his soulmate looking back at him through smudged glasses, twinkling in smears of forest green and chocolate love-sick galaxies.

 

Iwaizumi felt a hand at the back of his neck, fiddling with the cord there, and he leaned back in to press his lips against the other’s, eyes slipping shut at the feeling of warm and _giddy_ sparks crackling under his skin and setting him alight.

 

 _This_ is what he had missed: the comfort of his best friend, and the atmosphere that poured from his skin like constellations dripped across a milky sea, clear and calming and effervescent: Omnipresent. Iwaizumi felt whole again, and could feel the knots of their string of fate untie and dance, singing in crescendo no longer muted by distance.

 

When they pulled back, Iwaizumi could feel himself smiling again, and he felt his smile mirrored.

 

“Merry Christmas, Iwa-chan.”

 

“Welcome home, Tooru,” Iwaizumi breathed gently, and set him down gently.

 

Iwaizumi saw a curious look break across Tooru’s face, and felt his fingers hook under the cord around Iwaizumi’s neck and pull it out from his shirt. “You still haven't put it on yet?” he asked, and Iwaizumi huffed a laugh.

 

“No, not yet,” he answered, “I was waiting for you.”

 

Tooru snorted, and unclipped it, pooling the rope and its pendant in his palm. “May I?” he asked, and Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes.

 

“What am I gonna say, ‘no’?” he snarked.

 

Tooru made an insulted “Tch” noise. “Don’t ruin the moment, Iwa-chan.”

 

“Then get on with it!”

 

Tooru rolled his eyes, but a smile still broke its way over his features. He picked up Iwaizumi’s hand, and slid the silver ring onto his fourth finger. The ring itself was simple, with a small line of marbled obsidian running down the middle, and matched perfectly with the one on Tooru’s own hand.

 

“Sappy,” Iwaizumi teased, but gently snagged Tooru’s hand and pulled it to his lips, kissing the cold band.

 

“And yet you just called _me_ sappy,” Tooru retorted, and Iwaizumi just flicked his forehead.

 

“C’mon, you need to get your luggage,” he said.

 

 _“And_ meet the lovely friends who took care of you for me,” Tooru added, sarcastically sweet.

 

Iwaizumi groaned quietly and grabbed Tooru’s wrist, pulling him towards where Take and Kirishima were watching them, a mix of being puzzled and shocked. (He swore he heard one of them mumble _“So many things make sense now”_ )

 

“Hello!” Tooru greeted cheerily, waving goofily.

 

“This is Oikawa Tooru,” Iwaizumi started, “my childhood friend and my fiancé.”

 

He saw two sets of minds click and eyes widen, as they both looked from Oikawa to Iwaizumi.

 

“So you two-”

 

“Holy shit, Take, their _eyes!”_

 

“Yes, I see that now,  but you cut me off-”

 

“So your soulmate is _also_ the friend you've been talking about for years?”

 

_“ Shou!”_

 

“Ah- sorry guys.” Kirishima rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as Take laughed softly.

 

“You two are adorable,” Oikawa cooed, and both of them flushed, Take glancing away while Kirishima hid his face with his hand.

 

“Behave,” Iwaizumi warned, voice low.

 

Take cleared his throat. “ My name’s Takeshi Yoichi, and this one’s Kirishima Shou, but you already knew that,” Take said warmly, nudging his friend before reaching out to shake Oikawa’s hand.

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Take-chan,” Oikawa said brightly, and Iwaizumi ran a hand down his face. _There’s the Oikawa I know and love._

 

Take didn't say anything, only to pink a little more and give Oikawa a funny look.

 

He turned to Kirishima and held out his hand, and Iwaizumi noticed that he was wearing two loose bracelets that were braided ropes in the color of thier old high school. (His heart clenched in sad nostalgia). “It's nice to meet you too, Kin-chan,” he said warmly, and Kirishima creased his brow in confusion, still taking his hand.

 

 _“Gold_ …?” He mumbled to himself.

 

Iwaizumi sighed. “This idiot here likes to give stupid nicknames to people,” he explained. “Though I do have to say, ‘Kin’ is pretty far of a stretch, even for you, Tooru.”

 

Oikawa shrugged. “I just worked with what I had,” he said simply, and Iwaizumi swatted him.

 

“Is that why you call him ‘Iwa-chan’?” Take piped up, and they turned back towards him.

 

“No, he just calls me that because he’s a pain in the ass,” Iwaizumi deadpanned.

 

Oikawa gasped in offense. “Rude, Iwa-chan!” He whined.

 

Iwaizumi gestured at him like _“See? Look at this bullshit,”_ and the other two cracked up.

 

“You don't seem to mind it when I say it in bed,” Oikawa retorted lasciviously, mismatched eyes mischievous and teasingly hooded.

 

Iwaizumi’s face burned and he heard Kirishima swallow down a snorting laugh before Iwaizumi smacked his idiot of a fiancé. “Remind me why I'm marrying you again?” he said, faux-annoyed.

 

“Because I'm irresistible,” Oikawa said dramatically, posing ridiculously.

 

Iwaizumi groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “You are twenty-two-year-old adult man,” he said.

 

“Your point?” Oikawa asked innocently.

 

“Build a bridge, dipshit, it means _build a bridge .”_

 

“This is _abuse_! I'm filing for a divorce.”

 

“We aren't even married yet!”

 

“Well, then I file it as soon as we are!”

 

“For the love of-”

 

“I don’t mean to interrupt the moment,” Take cut in, softly laughing, “but you do have luggage you need to pick up, yes?”

Oikawa paused, then turned back around to see the luggage claim starting up. “That I do,” he answered, unnecessarily serious.

 

“Go get your stuff, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi nudged, “we have lunch plans with the terrible two.”

 

Oikawa’s face lit up. “Really? They came out to see me?”

 

“In more ways than one,” Iwaizumi answered instinctively, and then immediately wanted to slap himself.

 

“Now that's a pun _they’d_ be proud of,” he teased.

 

“Shut up and get your shit,” Iwaizumi retorted, and watched as Oikawa flounced away to get it.

 

He rolled his eyes as he turned back to face Take and Kirishima.

 

“You certainly have a lot of explaining to do,” Kirishima said.

 

“I know, I know,” Iwaizumi said.

 

“Why didn't you tell us that they were the same person?” Take asked, not bothering to specify who _they_ was.

 

“Honestly? I was a bit nervous at how you’d react to the news,” Iwaizumi answered.

 

“Seriously? C’mon, you know that we’ll still stick with you,” Kirishima replied, cuffing him in the shoulder.

 

Take didn't say anything, but gave Iwaizumi a soft look that said _“Duh, of course.”_

 

“I know, I should have just told you guys,” Iwaizumi ceded sheepishly, but they shook their heads.

 

“No need to apologize,” Take said.

 

“Besides, I'm sure we’ll hear plenty of wonderful blackmail stories from Oikawa as payment,” Kirishima added mirthfully.

 

“Ugh, _no,_ it was hard enough keeping Hanamaki and Matsukawa from telling you two,” Iwaizumi groaned, and they laughed again.

 

Iwaizumi ran a thumb over his ring absently, smiling at its weight. His worrying, it seems, was for naught, though a little niggling voice in his head told him that he shouldn’t have worried in the first place.

 

Iwaizumi turned to see Oikawa wheeling his suitcase over, waving for his attention. “You ready to go, Your Highness?” he called sarcastically.

 

Oikawa laughed, and skipped the rest of the way over to the others. “Let’s go see those meme friends of ours,” he said, and reached for Iwaizumi’s hand.

 

Hand-in-hand and grin-in-grin, the two missing pieces finally snapped together, and they felt as if the poles of the earth had been reunited, as if the moon was no longer blind to the ocean, and their souls sang beautifully once more.

 

(The minute they had walked outside, Tooru had gasped like a wonderstruck child and spun in the circle, exclaiming how much he had missed Japan’s winter and the snow that had finally started to fall, sticking to his eyelashes and making him look like an icy angel. Iwaizumi smiled. “Just in time for Christmas, no?”

 

A blindingly beautiful and _truthful_ smile painted Oikawa’s face. “Yes,” he answered breathlessly, and Iwaizumi leaned up to kiss the smile from his lips, tasting the familiar and sorely missed colors there, heart singing as he intertwined their fingers in their age-old melody again.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with a sequel following TakeShima! You don't need to read it, however, as both can be standalone pieces!


	2. Hemorrhage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the flip-side of Jigsaw, this story follows the story of Takeshi and Kirishima from freshman year to present time, chasing valleys and peaks the entirety of the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the sequel to last year's Christmas gift for my IwaOi hoe of a sister, but it follows the POV of my OC's instead. You don't need to read this after Jigsaw, as that is a standalone, but there is still IwaOi here, as well as a dash of KyouHaba and Matsuhana! 
> 
> (This one got way out of hand... like, 20K words out of hand... but I really do love my boys) 
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy my lovely children and Iwaizumom Hajime, as well as the ever-present Oikawa and the slowest of burns that pinwheels from angst to the fluffiest of fluff! Also, spot all of the literary references! (Oops) 
> 
> Also, there's some sexual content, but it's more implied/fade-to-black, nothin' super prominent

 

When Takeshi Yoichi envisioned finally going to college, he imagined high-stress, but high-knowledge experiences and the independence of a new adult; but he  _ never _ thought he’d find himself sitting in an almost-empty library while the sound of a couple poorly trying to restrain their…  _ pleasurable activities  _ interrupted the peace of the room.

 

Needless to say, it was rather uncomfortable for everyone in the room spare the lucky couple. However, it seemed that there were only a few people in the library at the moment late on a Friday night, and Takeshi didn’t know if that made it better or worse in knowing he was fairly alone in his discomfort.

 

_ If I just ignore it and focus on this passage, I can get it done with and get out-  _ Takeshi cringed as a rather loud moan interrupted his train of thought, and he closed his eyes in a silent sigh of resignation. 

 

At the sound of it, the guy sitting across from Takeshi- previously leaning over a textbook and tapping his foot to the tinny beat pulsing from his headphones- looked up from his paper at Takeshi, eyebrows narrowing in confusion. 

 

As another groan and a hiss bitten between teeth rattled through the air, Takeshi flinched and said eyebrows from the man across from him skyrocketed into wild black bangs, and he reached up to tug one of his earbuds out in incredulity. 

 

Takeshi was already beyond mortified by the fact that this couple couldn't apparently wait until a private place to devour each other, but the fact that he was now stuck in horrified/amused staring contest with another person made him want to crawl under the table.

 

With lower, breathier sounds seeping from what Takeshi was finally able to locate were the bookshelves across the room, he resisted the urge to hide his second-hand embarrassment beneath the pages of his book while the person across from him looked seconds from bursting into laughter. 

 

_ ‘Is this seriously happening?’  _  he mouthed, and Takeshi gave him strained look before nodding. Said person snorted quietly before turning back to his work, seemingly unfazed.

 

Takeshi, on the other hand, was futilely trying to get through his chapter, but the initial and  _ continued  _ interruption made the words on his page swim in indecipherable lines of swirling English letters.  _ I can’t do this, not in here. But apparently  _ **_they_ ** _ can,  _ he thought bitterly, jumping when the clatter of books falling rang through the air like gunshots.

 

Stranger looked back up at Takeshi with his lip clamped between his teeth in a valiant effort not to laugh, and Takeshi was one part irritated by the fact that it was _eleven thirty on a Friday night_ and he was trying to read, one part (guiltily) amused as well as shocked by the fact of the whole situation, and one part utterly distracted by Stranger’s absurdly blue eyes. _Not the time, nor the place; it’s only been_ ** _two months_** _since you got here, so_ _don't you dare start now,_ he chastised himself.

 

Eventually, the disruption fell silent, and Takeshi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. 

 

“Oh thank god,” Stranger muttered, the sudden sound of his voice startling Takeshi. “I don't think I could have handled any more of that.” 

 

Despite himself, Takeshi snorted, and started tucking away his materials into bag to leave. Before he could get up, however, he saw one of the culprits stagger out from behind the bookshelves, hissing something over his shoulder before an arm dragged him back again, and Takeshi raised an eyebrow.  _ These people really are odd… _

 

Eventually, they both emerged from the shelter of the books, both mumbling  _ (angrily?)  _ to each other as they headed casually out of the library, seemingly completely indifferent to their previous activities or unintentional company. (Stranger, upon watching them leave, had mumbled a dry “Why the hell does that guy look like some kinda bumblebee?”)

 

Takeshi, however, could see the fresh marks littering both their jaws and necks despite his distance, and he’d felt a spark of horror as he realized just how hard they would have had to have bitten each other.  _ Nope, no, it’s way too late for this,  _ he thought as he let out a deep breath, pushing back from his chair with the intent of leaving as quickly as possible. 

 

On his way out, he saw Stranger look back up and wave goodbye, and Takeshi felt his heart tug weakly at the goofy grin curling crookedly on Stranger’s face before giving him a hesitant wave in return.  _ You’ll never see him again, so what’s the point?  _ he tried to reason as left behind the brightest eyes he’d ever seen burning between his shoulder blades as he walked out.

 

What Takeshi hadn't know, however, was that his roommate would turn out to be a drunken asshole who liked being in other people’s dorms far often than his own.

 

What Takeshi didn't know then was that the one day he would try to cook for himself would go up in flames- more literally than he would have liked, and that said roommate would viciously snap at him, half-hungover and sleep-deprived.

 

What Takeshi didn't know then was that he would be transferred to another wing and another roommate, this one a science major as opposed to his English lit-major ex-roommate.

 

What Takeshi would never have guessed in a million years was that the second he’d walk into his new dorm he would nearly drop his key as he laid eyes on his new roommate sitting cross-legged and immersed in his DS, and his heart would stop as those burning, burning eyes that had haunted him ceaselessly would look back up at him and widen in shock, and that their owner would incredulously shout “Holy _ fuck,  _ you're that guy from the library that one time when those guys were banging!” 

 

What Takeshi didn't know was that those blue eyes would finally have a name, and that he would have that name etched into him as they became bound irrecoverably in a friendship turned titanium, and that he would fall  _ hard  _ for that name and the heart along with it:

_ Kirishima Shou. _

 

\---

 

In the time of his first year living with Kirishima, Takeshi would learn lots of little things about him:

For starters, he was  _ loud-  _ loud of voice, heart, demeanor, tongue- he didn’t care who heard him or what they had to say, but despite the boldness he was easily flustered. (A kind word here and there, praise from nowhere- he may have been loud, but he was humble despite it.)

 

Takeshi would come to learn that almost instantly within the first conversation with Kirishima; his appearance alone spoke volumes, from his ratty plaid pajama pants and old t-shirt, to his wild bed head that one hand ran through unconsciously while his old DS dangled from the other propped on his hip. (“So, you’re Takeshi, yeah? Takeshi Yoichi? The one from the English wing?”

 

“That’s right.”  _ His voice is lower than I was expecting, and his accent is odd… _

 

“Well, it’s a pleasure t’meet ya, Takeshi! The name’s Kirishima Shou.” 

 

“The pleasure’s all mine; thank you for having me. I hope I’m not too much of a hindrance.”

 

“A hindrance? Nah, don’t be stupid! I’ve been goin’ kinda stir-crazy since there’s no one here to talk to and I don’t really know anyone in my classes yet. I’m happy to have ya!”

 

“Ah- really?”

 

“Mmhm! Make yourself right at home, okay?”

 

“Thank you very much, Kirishima.”

 

“Of course, Takeshi!”)

 

Polite and kind, but sharp and sarcastic at the same time- it proved to be an interesting combination, coupled with his whip-sharp mind and lazy mentality. 

 

Another thing Takeshi learned early on was that- much to his lucky stars- Kirishima was an  _ excellent  _ cook, and that he had the unfortunate habit of stress baking, particularly cupcakes around finals (the entire floor knew to stop by their room for some of the most wild cupcakes during testing season- candy-cane, double mint, sea salt, caramel s’mores, and on and on). 

 

On one particular instance, Kirishima had been trying to teach Takeshi how to cook something simple-  _ had it been breakfast?-  _ when a sarcastic remark led to a mild debate and someone’s eye was gone for just too long, resulting in a nasty lump of something black and putrid smoke that ended up with them cracking the windows and fleeing their room, running into another student apparently suffering from their same inattentiveness. It turned out that he was their neighbor, and from a simple accident led to the long-suffering friendship of Iwaizumi Hajime, an astrophysics major who happened to be in the same advanced physics class as Kirishima (who constantly begged him for his notes and extra tutoring the days he was more lazy than not).

 

Another discovery: Kirishima was, for lack of a better term, an absolute  _ nerd.  _ Aside from his love of what he described to be “the beauty and musicality of mathematics”, he also enjoyed cheesy romance movies and books alike, loving famous literature and history but despising poetry, video games (Mario Kart was now banned from the Kirishima-Takeshi dorm, for reasons that should not be disclosed- but part of it involved a broken table and a bruised cheek), music of any genre, and sappily so, his friends above all. 

 

Despite Kirishima being a social butterfly and an incorrigible flirt on top of it, he had trouble finding solid friends, and that was the core of his insecurities; he was fiercely loyal and wouldn’t hesitate to jump in defense of said friends as well as his family (Like Takeshi, Kirishima had younger siblings- two younger twin brothers instead of Takeshi’s younger sister, and Kirishima never failed to dote and brag about them when given the chance). On a different note, he was also the one who eventually gave Takeshi his infamous nickname- one he secretly held dear- only a few months after meeting him. 

(“Hey, Takeshi.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“D’you… have any, like, nicknames at all?”

 

“Nicknames? Um, no, none that I’m aware of, anyway.”

 

“Hm…” (Kirishima, from his spot on the floor, had turned over onto his back to stare up at Takeshi seated on the couch.)

 

“If you roll onto my feet, I won’t hesitate kicking you.”

 

A snort. “Oh, trust me, I’m  _ well _ aware of your kicking ability.”

 

(That had drawn a quiet laugh from Takeshi.)

 

“Take.”

 

“Huh?”

 

_ “Take.  _ Y’know, just the first two syllables; it’s a bit easier to say than  _ Takeshi.” _

 

“Take?” (Takeshi rolled the name over his tongue, tasting and thinking.)

 

“Is that alright? If you don’t like it I totally understand, some people like to keep their names the original way-“

 

“I like it.”

 

“You- what? You  _ do?” _

 

(Takeshi nodded shyly from where he attempted to hide his face in his book, but Kirishima has seen it anyway and grinned.)

 

“Well alrighty then- Take it is!”)

 

Takeshi also discovered that being with Kirishima was easier than  _ breathing,  _ having easily slipped into a friendship with him in less than a month and becoming quickly joined at the hip, in some ways more literally than most (in their second year, they’d settled into the habit of sleeping in each other’s beds simply because leaving to go to their own rooms was just too much work). Takeshi learned that Kirishima was clingy and overall just touchy with people he knew, but there were hardly moments when Kirishima wasn’t in contact with Takeshi: an arm looped over his shoulders, legs strewn across his lap, ankles hooked together or feet nudging at each other, hands drumming on his legs, a head leaning back onto his shoulder, or fingers tugging and mussing Takeshi’s long hair, and so on. 

 

Takeshi, usually reserved and uncomfortable with touches, reveled in Kirishima’s and his constant energy; it was warm and uplifting like the fresh notes of morning coffee, and his ceaseless sunshine always warmed him from the inside out no matter how low Takeshi got, and others noticed, particularly Iwaizumi, but thankfully never said anything.

 

The other realization was one Takeshi had the minute he first saw him, and it was that Kirishima was frustratingly  _ attractive.  _ On looks alone, Kirishima was nothing short of magnetizing, with planes of tan skin and dizzying freckles over the bridge of a slightly crooked nose and an even more crooked smile, with those bright blue eyes hidden by the edges of dark, messy bangs. Tall yet broad, he was easily bigger than Takeshi, and the observation never failed to make Takeshi’s heart lurch. (He wasn’t the only one to notice either, of course, and girls were constantly fawning and asking him out, which lead to Takeshi discovering something about himself- he got jealous easily, but almost unnoticeably so, but Iwaizumi was still able to tease him incessantly about it.)

 

Kirishima, however, was entirely oblivious to it, which lead to the final and most deadly of discoveries:

He was the most infuriatingly  _ dense  _ person Takeshi had the misfortune of ever knowing.

 

Kirishima was obvious in his heart and his mind, his face an open book of colors-

But he had  _ no  _ idea when it came to social cues.

 

Yes, he was polite, and yes, he was kind, but he was also loose-tongued and relaxed to a dangerous degree, too stubbornly uncaring of what others thought of him to  _ tone it down.  _

 

But Takeshi?

He was a closed book; reserved, quiet, soft-spoken, until Kirishima had wedged himself into Takeshi’s life and pried him open to reveal a soul like a glittering geode, now filled with quips and sarcasm and gentle teasing-  _ “If I’m Take, than that means I’m going to call you  _ **_Shou-tan.”_ **

 

_ “What? That’s no fair! At least your nickname makes sense!” _

 

_ “I think it fits.” _

 

_ “Well- well then I’ll just call you  _ **_Take-tan!_ ** _ Wait, no, that sounds stupid.” _

 

_ “Checkmate, ‘ _ **_Shou-tan._ ** _ ’” _

 

_ “Hey!” _

 

-and  _ stupidly  _ in love with this ball of serendipitous sunshine that had somehow managed to carve a place for himself in Takeshi’s heart.

 

However, Kirishima hadn’t the faintest clue, and it took nearly  _ four years  _ until he did.

 

Takeshi, on the hand, figured it out in merely one, and it had nearly destroyed him.

 

——

 

It’s only been two days since Kirishima left for the holiday break, his excited babbling about how he got to see his family for christmas and give his brothers ‘the best present ever’- his words, not Take’s-, but while Take knew he was the last thought in Kirishima’s mind as he was surrounded by his loving family, Take was curled up on the couch in their dorm room feeling miserable as he laid in the dark with the rattiest blanket they owned. 

 

Laying on his side with his face half-shoved into the fabric, he absently scrolled through his phone, eyes skipping over the pictures that slid across his screen, his heart tugged faintly as he saw happy family reunions and mushy couples underneath mistletoe or bright Christmas lights high above them, and he clicked his phone off with a sharp exhale and dropped it onto the carpet. He tugged the blanket tighter around him and shut his eyes, letting his mind drift. 

 

He knew that despite his mother begging him to come home to visit just once, Take wouldn’t be welcome in the awkwardness of his mother’s boyfriend and his patchwork attempt at cleaning up the mess that had sent Take into a spiral of rage-induced depression, the root of it his off-hand comment about how he was  _ so  _ much better than her previous husband. While his mother had simply sat quietly, her boyfriend oblivious to how her hands clutched at each other in her lap, Take had done his best to quietly try and correct him, for there must have been a misunderstanding about their current familial state, but no, the man had to open his mouth and continue spewing those dark and vicious words about how they were so lucky to have him, how the man before must have been an utter man of deceit and darkness, and Take’s mother burst into tears, pushing back from the table to leave the room as quickly as possible with her hands clutched at something around her neck. 

 

It was then that Take, the quiet and polite soul of the Takeshi home, explained how his father had died in a car accident that nearly killed his baby sister- Kou, now 15- and his mother had been in a hospital for months afterward simple because of her survivor's guilt. His words, despite never raising his voice once, were acidic enough to strip the bone down the very core, because  _ “half-cocked assumptions made in an attempt to level yourself do nothing more than destroy the very hearts you try to win over.”  _ Take had been furious, but the whole ordeal was a double-edged blade as he watched his mother’s heart break again after he’d so diligently helped patch it together while nursing her back to health.

 

(Take hadn’t even been there when the crash had happened, and it had torn him to shreds.) 

 

Take bluntly informed his mother’s boyfriend of the reason why he never knew the truth, and that it was because she simply didn’t want to burden him with the weight of her previous husband’s death, whom she had loved so fiercely. 

 

Take left that house without a word, ignoring the calls that filled his phone. 

 

Now, he was on speaking terms with both of them but kept his distance, for he’d been so disgusted with the words and the weakness he’d exposed that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room with them without feeling as if he was ruining something- after all, bad luck seemed to follow him like a hellhound. (He still loved his mother and his sister, but he could not fathom why that damn man still lived in that house- he shelved it all aside.) 

 

Instead, he promised to video chat his sister on Christmas Eve and the next morning, but now he had nothing to do but wait for the next four days until he’d speak with someone he cared for: Iwaizumi would be out with his two friends for the next week, and Kirishima wouldn’t be home until after the New Year- 

 

_ I miss him already- but he has family who deserves his love more than I do.  _ The thought was unexpected and sharp, making him squeeze his fingers harder around the blanket, but it did nothing to stop the sudden tide of dark thoughts. 

 

_ I have no one-  _

_ No family by my side, no friends to laugh with, no soulmate to kiss or hold-  _

_ The quiet Yoichi, so quiet and kind- no one would ever expect him to be such bad luck.  _

 

At the thought of soulmates, his stomach clenched and his eyes burned, and he squeezed them tighter. He knew he shouldn’t bother with the idea, knowing he had to much of his studies to focus on for the idea of soulmates, but his heart was selfish and desperate. He wished so deeply that he could just stay with Kirishima and not have to face the world, because if there was one place he felt safe and  _ himself  _ it was with his hand in his, but- 

 

Take huffed and sat up, forcing himself up off the couch before he could finish his mental tirade, swiping a bitter hand across his eyes to wipe away the burning tears there. He was dizzy as he lurched toward the bathroom, chest aching as he tried to swallow his idiotic tears away. _You need to let him go, Yoichi- you know he’s a flighty soul as it is, and he’d never settled with you,_ he chastised as he pushed open the door to brace himself on the sink, _after all, it’s never as if he’ll ever fall in…_ As Take’s eyes met his reflection’s in the mirror, his heart stopped as his breath rushed out. 

 

“No,” he muttered, raising his hands to pull at the skin under his eyes.  _ “No.  _ No, this can’t be real,” he whispered, panicked and incredulous as he dropped his hands to stare blankly at his tear-puffy eyes unattractively rimmed in red- 

 

What should have been petulant gray looking back him was mismatched and uneven, for only one of his eyes was familiar; the other was a bright and oh-so damning blue that made his heart race painfully. 

 

There was only one other place he’d seen that particular shade of blue, a person who haunted his every gesture and his mind and his dreams. 

 

“No no no  _ no,”  _ he chanted as he tore his hands through his hair, breath going uneven before he dropped them, flinching when he caught sight of his reflection once again. Take stumbled out of the bathroom to scramble for his phone, swiping it open with shaking hands to scroll frantically through his chat logs, eyes catching on one name that made his heart squeeze.

 

**_Conversation: ‘Shou-tan’_ **

 

**_[11:23] To: me_ **

_ hey, i’ll be back before you even know it! _

**_[11:24] To: me_ **

_ so don’t be sad, okay? just don’t eat all of the cookies I made before I get back! _

**_[11:27] To: me_ **

_ i’ll miss you too.  _

**_[11:31] To: me_ **

_...ah, you probably fell asleep already, didn’t you? well, I guess it is late- i’ll talk to you later, Take.  _

 

(He’d indeed fallen asleep before he’d gotten to reply, and he just hadn’t had the heart to answer back, as so many other responses to his ‘I’ll miss you too’ just made him choke up.) 

 

Instead, Take skipped over the name to his conversation with Iwaizumi, flicking it open hesitantly to type out a message to him, thumb hovering the send button before pressing it with a panicked resignation as he bit harshly down on his lip.

  
  


**_Conversation: Iwaizumi Hajime_ **

 

**_[6:37] From: me_ **

_ I need to talk to you  _

 

He’d lost the normal concern for punctuation as horror and darkness scraped his mind raw. 

 

Iwaizumi responded almost immediately. 

 

**_[6:37] To: me_ **

_ Of course- what’s wrong?  _

 

Take started to write out a response, but he found that he couldn’t possibly form any combination of words that would actually convey the turmoil in his mind. His breath hitched, and his eyes started to burn. 

 

**_[6:38] To: me_ **

_ Take? Hello? _

**_[6:38] To: me_ **

_ I’m coming over. Door still open?  _

 

Take hiccuped, eyes sliding shut. 

 

**_[6:39] From: me_ **

_ Yeah  _

  
  


Take slowly sank down onto the couch, dropping his phone next to him and burying his face in his hands. His mind whirled as the pieces slid horribly together like gears without oil, meant to fit but so unwanted and sudden that it ground into horrible smoke that choked him.  _ This can’t be true, this can’t be true, I can’t be his- _

 

“Take?” Iwaizumi’s voiced called hesitantly from the front door. “Take, what’s going on?” Take wasn’t able to respond, but he heard Iwaizumi make his way into the living room despite it. “Woah, okay,” he said suddenly, and Take felt the couch dip next to him. “Take?” 

 

Take’s breath slipped, and he ground his hands harder into his eyes. “I- I messed up,” he whispered, the words like a broken psalm. 

 

“Take, breathe,” Iwazumi coaxed, placing a gentle hand on his back. “Start from the beginning- what happened? Did you have a fight with Kirishima or something?” 

 

Take laughed humorlessly, dropping his hands but keeping his eyes shut. “There’s not enough hours in the day to describe what happened from the beginning,” he said, trying to keep the words light failing just enough for Iwaizumi’s hand to stiffen. 

 

“What do you mean?” 

 

Take sighed deeply and opened his eyes, looking miserably over at Iwaizumi and watching as his eyes widened in shock as he registered Take’s new heterochromia. “I’m in love with  _ Shou,” _ he confessed, words coming out choked and cracked as if he’d uttered a death sentence. 

 

Iwaizumi opened his mouth in response before closing it. “So... you and Kirishima are soulmates?” he clarified, and Take nodded bitterly. 

 

“Apparently, but…” Take trailed off, breath hitching again. 

 

Iwaizumi knit his eyebrows. “Take, what’s the problem?” he started. “You two are already glued to each other as it is.” 

 

Take took a deep breath. “But I don’t… I don’t think he’ll ever see me like  _ that,”  _ he said, hands tightening as his voice went wobbly. “All he ever talks about is finding the perfect girl.” 

 

Iwaizumi sighed deeply, gently running his hand down Take’s back soothingly. “If you’re soulmates, you’re soulmates,” he said bluntly. “Things’ll work out for you no matter how rocky it may get; it did for me and my soulmate, after all.” 

 

Take snorted quietly, hands rubbing at his knees. “I want so desperately for it to, but I don’t…” he tried weakly, and Iwaizumi smiled. 

 

“You don’t want to ruin your friendship?” he filled in, and Take’s fingers tightened around his knees in silent confirmation. He huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I get you- I really do- but let me tell you why that’s bullshit,” he said and Take’s head whipped up at him in surprise. 

 

“What?” he croaked, and Iwaizumi snorted. 

 

“If you truly love him enough for you to be as torn up as you are right now, then you should know that you’d never let anything happen to you, right?” he said, and Take nodded slowly.

 

“Of course not,” he said, sniffling as he wiped his nose. “I just-” he sighed- “I’m not going to force it; I don’t think I’d be able to live with that.” 

 

Iwaizumi shook his head. “No, you shouldn’t,” he said. “Just… let him be, for now. It may hurt, and you may want to give up sometimes, but you just have to be patient.” 

 

Take laughed, voice watery. “Since when did you become Mr. Therapist?” he teased. “I think the last time I heard you act this philosophical was when you ate too many of Shou’s spiked April Fool’s cupcakes.” 

 

Iwaizumi’s lips flattened into a disapproving look.  _ “That  _ was only because I had no idea your idiot of a roommate boozed them,” he argued, and Take laughed again, the sound stronger this time. “And  _ you  _ just sat there without saying a word!” 

 

“I’m sorry, but it  _ was _ funny,” Take replied weakly, and Iwaizumi threw his hands up. 

 

“I expect that shit from Hanamaki and Matsukawa, but boozy apple cider cupcakes?’ Iwaizumi opened his hands in a rhetorical gesture of  _ ‘Seriously?’  _ Once again, Take couldn’t help but laugh, one hand coming up to cover his mouth. Iwaizumi smiled in relief as Take snorted.

 

Taking a deep breath, Take’s face sobered before he spoke again. “I know I just kind of dumped this on you in a panic, but… thank you, just for listening,” he said. 

 

Iwaizumi cuffed him on the shoulder. “You don’t have to thank me, Take,” he said. “You know my door’s always open to talk.” 

 

Take nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly, a tiny smile on his face. It hurt, but the brief spark of happiness did eat away at the looming dread he felt lingering behind his eyelids. 

 

Iwaizumi stood, pausing briefly as he remembered something. “Before I forget…. Hang on, give me a second,” he said, holding up a pointer finger before heading out of the room. Take knit his eyebrows as he leaned back to see where Iwaizumi had walked around the corner, hearing the front door open and close as Iwaizumi walked back in with a blue-wrapped package in his arms. “This is from Kirishima,” he explained at Take’s look of confusion. “It’s a Christmas gift he asked me to give you after he left, but I figured I’d give it to you now.” 

 

Take reached out to take it, squinting at the shoddy folding of the light-blue paper over the lumpy package.  _ Typical Shou,  _ he thought with a faint snort. Looking back up at Iwaizumi, he smiled. “Thank you again, Iwaizumi.” 

 

Iwaizumi nodded. “Of course,” he said. “I’ll be just next door, but I can make dinner for you if you’d like.” 

 

Take waved him off. “Thank you, but I don’t think I’m hungry just yet,” he said quietly, and Iwaizumi frowned slightly. 

 

“If you insist,” he said, crossing his arms with a stern and searching look, but he didn’t press. “Have a good night, okay? I’m always here to talk.” 

 

“You too,” Take said, and Iwaizumi headed back out to leave Take with the silence and the package in his arms. Looking down at it, he took a deep breath to chase away the tear-induced ache he felt in his chest as he scrubbed at his eyes before he plucked out the small card stuck to the top with tape and pried it open, greeted with Kirishima’s messy handwriting: 

 

_**Merry Christmas, Take!!** _

_ I know I’m not here to celebrate with you, but I’m just a phone call away (you know I’m irresistible)! _

 

_ It’s- wow- only been five months since I’ve known you, but it’s honestly felt like forever, and I couldn’t be happier to be stuck with you despite you trying to burn down our kitchen. Honestly, I’m so lucky to have you as both a roommate as well as a best friend, and I can’t wait to brag about you to my family once I get there.  _ (Take snorted at that.) 

 

_ I’ll see you soon, and I hope you take care of yourself while I’m away- if you need anything at all,  _

_ please _ _ talk to me; I know you hate waking me up during the night, but you can text me any time!! Ya know I don’t mind!!  _

 

_ Anyway, this note is too long and this card’s way too damn short-  _

_ So happy holidays, Takeshi Yoichi, biggest nerd and best roommate ever, and happy birthday- I’ll definitely make you the best cake EVER when I get back! _

 

_ Lots of love, _

_ Kirishima Shou :D _

 

Take laughed weakly as he finished reading, and hearing Kirishima’s voice seep through the words made his already-wet eyes sting as he flipped over the card. 

 

_ P.S. _

_ I know I make this joke a lot, and I know you get cold-  _

_ I hope you really like it!!  _

 

Take set the card aside to carefully tear at the seams, pulling away the paper to reveal the navy-blue object under the wrapping. Carefully grabbing the edges, Take lifted it up to see it was a fuzzy sweatshirt with the word “TACO” arcing across it in in big black block lettering. Take laughed incredulously as the realization settled in, for the whole Take/Taco conundrum was a running joke between the two of them. 

 

Hugging it close to his chest, he shut his eyes and sighed deeply, feeling the pins and needles in his chest shift as something tugged in his heart. 

 

This time, as tears spilled down his cheeks, they weren’t of bitter self-hatred or of pain, but of pure and childish love, as pathetic as he may have thought it may have been. 

 

_ It’s perfect, Shou-  _

_ Of course it is.  _

 

\---

 

(When Kirishima returned from his trip, he’d been greeted with a hug and an achingly neon smile before he laid eyes on Takeshi and noticed his eyes, lips curling crookedly before laughing in surprise.  _ “I was only gone for a few days and you managed to not only find but  _ **_fall in love with_ ** _ your soulmate? And you didn’t  _ **_tell_ ** _ me?”  _

 

Take had known it was just supposed to be teasing, a look of mirthful (and slightly incredulous) amusement on Kirishima’s face, but it struck him to the core so sharply his face fell.  _ I- Shou, I couldn’t just-  _ he’d thought numbly to himself.

 

Kirishima’s smile melted immediately.  _ “Woah, Take- I’m sorry, I don’t know what I said but I swear, I wasn’t tryin’ to be a dick!”  _ he’d backpedaled, and Take just laughed weakly.  _ If only you knew.  _

 

Kirishima frowned then, and he’d lifted his hands to poke at Take’s blue eye, sweeping a finger under it.  _ “I may not know who gave it to you, but blue fits really nicely with you, I think,”  _ he’d said, and Take’s mind had short-circuited. 

 

There was a million responses Take had had on the tip of his tongue, spanning from irritation to  _ holy shit why are you touching me,  _ but he’d only settled on a meek  _ “Yeah.”  _

 

Kirishima beamed.  _ “So, when do I get to meet them?”  _

 

Take had just smacked him in response.)

 

——

 

_**Three years later, senior year.** _

 

Shutting the car door with a sharp huff to dispel the chill of the air, Take burrowed into his jacket as he shoved his hands in his pockets, shooting a quick glance over to Kirishima to make sure he hadn’t left him behind before making a beeline for the entrance of the dorms.  _ “Woah,  _ Take, slow down!” Kirishima called with a laugh, locking the car with a beep before rushing over.

 

Take slowed his pace slightly, but kept his hands buried in his coat. “It’s freezing,” he said, “and you know I don’t do cold.” 

 

Kirishima sighed before trotting over to him, plucking one of Take’s hands from his coat to shove into his own pocket with a squeak of protest from Take. “You know I’m warm, and I don’t mind lending said warmth,” Kirishima said jokingly, but he squeezed Take’s fingers sincerely with a faint smile. Take returned the smile gratefully, shivering as he pressed against Kirishima. 

 

They were quiet for a few more minutes before Kirishima stopped walking, tipping his head up to look at the dark sky as snow drifted down around him. Are you okay, Shou?” Take asked, faint concern in his voice. 

 

Kirishima huffed, the exhalation curling in front of him until it drifted up toward the snow-covered stars twinkling above them. “Yeah, I’m good, just… I can’t believe Iwaizumi never told us about his soulmate,” he finally said, words oddly serious. 

 

Take tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

 

Kirishima hummed. “Well, we’ve known him for this long, and he didn’t even tell us he was  _ engaged,”  _ he said. “I guess I’m trying to wrap my head around the idea that he thought we’d hate him- or Oikawa, for that matter.” There was a confused tilt in his lips, screwed to the side as he gazed upward.

 

Take sighed. “It wasn’t our business to press,” he chided lightly.  _ I understand the concern of secrecy- if only  _ **_he_ ** _ knew. _

 

Kirishima shrugged.“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he ceded, before a small grin slipped back onto his face. “C’mon, let’s go get you inside before you freeze solid; I can feel you shivering, Yoichi, and I don’t think you want to have a cold while we’re out with everyone tomorrow.”

 

Take nodded dumbly, his lips too cold to respond properly, and Kirishima dragged him to the front door, swiping open the door reader and ushering them both inside. Take sighed in relief as the warmth of the building started to creep back into his skin.

 

As he watched Kirishima brush the snow out of his hair and shoot Take a bright grin, Take’s heart twisted as he thought of how Iwaizumi had been sitting on his secret for four years, terrified of how they would think of him, yet nestled within Take’s own chest was a burning secret of his own that threatened to devour him as he watched those damned eyes of Kirishima’s darken with sudden concern. “Are you sure you’re alright? You’ve been kinda quiet since the ride back,” Kirishima asked, snapping Take out of his reverie.

 

Take offered him a faint smile. “Yeah, I’m okay; let’s just get back to the room before I fall asleep,” he replied, and Kirishima nodded.

 

“Amen to that,” he said cheerily, hooking Take’s arm in his own to head toward the stairwell. “I’ll make some hot chocolate to warm us up then.” 

 

Take nodded absently as Kirishima chattered aimlessly on, pushing their way into their room before he shooed Take from the kitchen with a gentle order of  _ go change into something warmer!  _ while he dug around for mugs. 

 

Take did as told and plopped onto his bed, wrapping one of his blankets around his waist as he picked up the book he’d been reading- and English copy of  _ The Great Gatsby,  _ of which the eponymous Gatsby’s one-sided fantasy struck a painful chord with him- and started to finish the chapter he’d left off at. 

 

He was immersed in the sweltering summer of New York in a rented apartment when Kirishima padded his way in with two steaming mugs, setting one next to Take on the bedside table and sitting cross-legged beside Take with his own mug and his phone. 

 

Take hummed a thank you as he reached for the mug, only half tearing away his eyes from the pages as he dove back into the story, and Kirishima beamed at him before pulling up some movie and putting in a pair of earbuds as he laid down on his stomach, kicking his feet childishly behind him.

 

They stayed just like that, silent in the quiet of the soft snow falling just outside the window as they chased away the cold of the winter night with the warmth of their drinks and each other. There was no need for words, but Take occasionally looked over the top of his book to watch Kirishima’s face as diffused light from his movie light up his face in technicolor emotion as he snickered and cheered silently. 

 

A little ember of a snowflake burned in Take’s chest as the peaceful moment settled into his bones, and a drowsy smile pulled over his cheeks.  _ This is all I need- nothing more, nothing less. _

 

(Inevitably, he fell asleep, and he faintly felt a huff of a laugh as his book was plucked from his slack fingers and placed on the table, and heard the click of a light being turned off. He also vaguely remembered feeling Kirishima curl up next to him as he finished his movie, his warmth seeping into Take’s side as he slipped further into sleep.

 

He couldn’t remember what he dreamt of, but it left him with an ineffable feeling in his chest and a peculiar smile on his face the next morning.) 

 

  
——  
  
After a frantic awakening caused by a phone (definitely not Kirishima’s dangling from his fingers) clattering to floor making Take bolt upright with a screech, both of them blearily scrambled to pull some semblance of proper clothing together before heading out for their lunch meeting with Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s good friends, of whom many stories and many curses had been uttered.   
  
Take offered to drive as he watched Kirishima fumble trying to lock the door for much longer than necessary, and Kirishima mumbled a sleepy thanks as they trudged out to meet their neighbor already outside with Oikawa.   
  
“I _told_ you not to stay up afterward, but no, you _had_ to stay up reading,” they heard Iwaizumi chide.  
  
Oikawa huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I guess it says something that I wasn’t _tired_ after _,_ don’t ya think, Iwa-chan?” he quipped back, his pout clashing with the innuendo behind his words.   
  
Iwaizumi scowled at him, but his face still pinked at his remark, and Oikawa laughed.   
  
“Good morning, you two,” Take called warmly, waving at them as they crossed the parking lot. Kirishima grunted some greeting as well, buried grumpily in his coat.  
  
“I think Kirishima might disagree,” Iwaizumi said sarcastically as they reached them.   
  
“Not a morning person, I take it, Kin-chan?” Oikawa asked, a faint smile on his lips.   
  
Kirishima shot him a grumpy look as Take sighed. “It’s not even that early, Shou-tan; it’s only ten-thirty,” Take said. Kirishima just squinted bitterly at him.   
  
“Up late again?” Iwaizumi asked dryly, and Kirishima smiled sheepishly.  
  
“He was watching a movie,” Take answered instead, and Kirishima shot him a betrayed look. “I fell asleep before he did, so I don’t know how long he was up.”   
  
“Don’t just sell me out like that!” Kirishima complained, voice cracking with the combination of bleariness and the cold of the air.   
  
Take raised an eyebrow. Kirishima swatted him in the shoulder, earning a repressed smile from Take as he tried not to laugh.   
  
Oikawa scrunched his eyebrows. “Did you two sleep in the same bed?” he asked bluntly, earning a mixed reaction of an awkward smile from Kirishima as he rubbed the back of his neck and Take flushing darkly.   
  
“I- well,” Take started, but Kirishima cut him off with a cheery “Well yeah, it conserves body heat,” that made Oikawa’s eyebrows shoot up.   
  
Take’s jaw dropped at Kirishima’s words, squawking a mortified “Shou!” in reply as Kirishima shrugged at him.   
  
Oikawa mumbled a faint “Didn’t you say they _weren’t_ dating?” to Iwaizumi, who just shook his head with a faint laugh.   
  
“Take, I’ve seen you fall asleep on Kirishima more times than I can count, so don’t act so surprised,” Iwaizumi said, amusement curling his lips as Take tried to hide behind his coat collar. “It’s a bad habit of yours.”  
  
_Well, it’s not_ ** _my_** _fault he’s absurdly warm and comfortable,_ he thought to himself, embarrassment turning his ears pink. _It also really doesn’t help that I’m so stupidly in-_ __  
__  
“He gets cold easily, man,” Kirishima spoke up, words level and frustratingly casual. “Can’t just let my best friend freeze to death.”   
  
Take slapped a hand over Kirishima’s mouth before he could say anything else. Iwaizumi cracked a smile and Oikawa burst out laughing as Kirishima struggled to pry Take’s fingers away.   
  
Finally snagging Take’s wrist and tugging it away, Kirishima fixed the two with a knowing look that Take knew all too well before asking “And I suppose you two _certainly_ weren’t also up late occupied within something, hm?” with all the liquidity of an imp.   
  
Take choked out an aghast _Shou!_ that Kirishima only mocked with a teasing _Yes,_ ** _Yoichi?_** in turn, ignoring as Oikawa and Iwaizumi turned matching shades of red in confirmation.   
  
Take sighed deeply as he fished his keys from his pocket. “How about I just drive us now?” he said, before quirking an eyebrow at Kirishima. “I apologize for my train wreck of a friend,” he added, though the words were soft in irritated fondness.   
  
At that, they all piled into Take’s car (Kirishima was shotgun, while Iwaizumi and Oikawa sat in the back), and as he started the engine he could have sworn he heard an “Ooh, I definitely think I’m going to like them,” from Oikawa and a deep-suffering sigh from Iwaizumi.   
  
He smiled faintly to himself as he backed out of the parking lot.  
  
———

 

“You’re  _ so  _ the baby!” 

 

“What do you  _ mean _ I’m the baby?” 

 

“Exactly what it sounds like, Tooru.” 

 

“Wha-  _ Iwa-chan!”  _ Take bit his lip as he tried not to laugh, watching as the four friends in front of them squabbled. 

 

Take and the others had met up with Matsukawa Issei and Hanamaki Takahiro at a homey ramen shop, and Take and Kirishima watched as the four of them swapped insults and affection back and forth faster than Take could breathe. It was amusing as it was touching, but there was one thing that made Take’s heart ache- of the six of them there, four of them were happily with their soulmates (though subtle, Take had immediately noticed that between the jokes and the teasing, Hanamaki and Matsukawa indeed had mismatched eyes of brown, with Matsukawa’s own being a rich coffee-black and Hanamaki’s a much lighter hazel color) while Take sat beside his own unknowing soulmate. Of the group, Kirishima was the only one left with solid eyes, a fact that certainly didn’t go unnoticed as he shamelessly flirted with their waitress. 

 

Matsukawa grinned lazily as Tooru squawked and jabbed Iwaizumi with his chopsticks before fixing the other two with a pout. “Shouldn’t it be Iwa-chan ‘cause he’s the shortest?” he complained, and Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at him. 

 

“Nah, he’s more of our mom than anything,” Matsukawa said dismissively, waving a hand. “If anything, you’re the baby because you’re so much work to maintain-” 

 

_ “Mattsun!”   _

 

_ “And  _ because you happen to be the youngest of us,” he finished, and Tooru looked at him, aghast. 

 

“Come on, that’s not fair! Iwa-chan, tell them!” Oikawa complained, and Iwaizumi just looked up casually from his noodles. 

 

“What was that? All I heard was whining,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. Oikawa’s jaw dropped, and the faintest of smiles flickered over Iwaizumi’s face. 

 

“You’re also Iwaizumi’s bitch, so that helps too,” Hanamaki added, and Oikawa whipped toward him with insult on his face. 

 

“How  _ dare _ you betray me like this, Makki!” he wailed, and Take heard Kirishima snort into his soup. Take nudged him, and Kirishima looked up at him with laughter in his eyes. 

 

Oikawa heard the noise and whipped around to face the two. “When are  _ your  _ birthdays?” he demanded loudly, and Kirishima choked on his noodles, startled by the sudden outburst.

 

As Kirishima choked, Take pat his back lightly as he answered for them. “My birthday’s the first of January, and Shou’s the first of June,” he replied, subtly shifting his glass of water over to Kirishima, who accepted it gratefully and drained it. 

 

Oikawa’s jaw dropped.  _ “What?”  _ he said just as Hanamaki mumbled a vague “You have each other’s half-birthdays?” 

 

“I told you, Tooru- you’re definitely the baby,” Iwaizumi said, Tooru just slumped down in his seat with his arms crossed over his chest, sulking. 

 

“I hate you guys,” he muttered petulantly, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as Hanamaki and Matsukawa high-fived.

 

“So- Takeshi, yeah?” Hanamaki said, pointing at him, “seems you’re the eldest of the group- so, tell me… what’s it like being older than me? Are you wiser?”

 

Take squinted at him before replying. “In all honesty, it sucks sometimes because the amount of times people have forgotten my birthday because they were too blackout drunk to remember is staggering,” he said blandly, and the others burst out laughing. 

 

“Are you serious?” Oikawa asked, and Take sighed deeply. 

 

“Yeah, it’s happened more than once- I’ve heard and  _ seen  _ it many a time,” Kirishima snickered.

 

Take fixed him a look. “Don’t forget the one time that  _ you _ missed the countdown as well as my birthday because you were too busy being drunk and hooking up with some girl from the science wing,” he said dryly, and Kirishima blanched as the rest of the table guffawed. 

 

“Isn’t that when you tried asking me for a condom and ended up just grabbing a bottle of gin and staggered off into your room with her?” Iwaizumi added, a smirk curving at the corners of his lips. 

 

Kirishima’s face went red as he tried to drown it in his (Take’s) water, but his effort went unnoticed as Matsukawa hooted and slapped Kirishima on the shoulder in praise. Kirishima choked again on his water, and Take broke out into full laughter. 

 

“I  _ like _ you two,” Hanamaki said slyly, and Kirishima just flashed a weak thumbs up as he cleared the water from his lungs. 

 

It was then that Oikawa leaned subtly over to Iwaizumi and muttered something suggestive in English that made Take’s ears go red; something about alcohol and wanting to celebrate New Year’s so hard that he didn’t want to be able to remember his name. Take made a strangled noise in his throat as he uncomfortably reached for the half-empty glass next to Kirishima.

 

Kirishima raised an eyebrow at him, subtly tapping his thigh in a silent message of  _ you good?  _ Take nodded sharply, and Kirishima squinted at him. 

 

Iwaizumi, catching Take’s eye, snorted faintly (and almost embarrassedly) before nudging Oikawa. “I recommend that you watch your mouth,” he warned, but Oikawa just gave him a sly look. 

 

**“What, don’t like the idea of being so drunk that you can’t remember when I-?”** Oikawa purred in English, and Take just choked, waving his hands frantically at Oikawa. 

 

_ “Please,  _ don’t,” he said weakly, pale skin flushing in awkwardness. Kirishima sucked on his lip as he realized what must have happened, returning to his soup as he restrained an amused smile. “Just- not here.”

 

Oikawa knit his eyebrows at Take before smiling lightly.  **“English major, are you?”** he asked, the flat syllables of English that Take always thought sounded wrong coming from his mouth spilling effortlessly like a spell from Oikawa’s lips. 

 

Take nodded.  **“English and Japanese literature double major,”** he replied, before his face fell slightly.  **“I can speak it somewhat, but I, ah, prefer just reading it; it suits me better.”** (Kirishima caught the drop in Take’s voice despite not understanding, and subtly leaned into him in faint comfort, the action making Take’s heart squeeze.) 

 

Oikawa frowned.  **“I think you speak it quite well, Take-chan,”** he said, and Take smiled faintly. 

 

**“Thank you, Oikawa, but I’m afraid it’s not quite up to par with where it needs to be,”** Take replied. 

 

Oikawa leaned forward onto the table, mismatched eyes entrancing and dangerous like a lion watching its prey-  _ studying.  _  “What do you plan on doing, then?” he asked, switching back to Japanese, and Take breathed a silent sigh of relief. 

 

“Translation, mostly,” Take replied. “I love old literature, English and Japanese alike, but I need to work on my speaking a bit more before I’m able to take up any jobs.” 

 

Oikawa digested Take’s reply for a minute before sighing dramatically, the lion in his presence dissolving back into his typical sugar persona. “I think you just need to not sell yourself short, Take-chan,” he said. “After all, you’ve been taking it for… how many years?” 

 

“Nine,” Take answered quietly, and Hanamaki whistled, impressed. 

 

“Damn, dude,” he said, but Oikawa flapped a hand at him. 

 

“Shush, Makki, don’t interrupt me, I’m having a moment,” he chided, before turning back to Take.  _ “After all,  _ it seems you’ve obviously got the passion as well as the tenacity for it, and you happen to sound quite natural when you speak.” 

 

Take blinked at Oikawa. “Thank you, Oikawa,” he said, shocked, but Kirishima just cuffed him on the shoulder. 

 

“See, I  _ told  _ you it wasn’t because I’m biased,” Kirishima drawled through a mouth of noodles, and Take sighed. 

 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Shou,” he chided, “or you’re going to choke again, and you already drank all of my water.” 

 

Kirishima stuck his tongue out at Take before leaning over to steal some of Take’s noodles, scrunching his nose at the taste. “They’re so damn bland, Take, what the hell,” he complained, and Take just rolled his eyes. 

 

“Your mouth’s still full,  _ Shou-tan,  _ and I happen to enjoy tasting my food when I eat it,” Take retorted, gesturing pointedly at Shou’s bowl of fire noodles. 

 

Shou finished chewing by squinting judgmentally at Take in a silent staring match. Take raised an eyebrow. 

 

“You two  _ are  _ cute,” Oikawa cooed, and the spell was broken as Take blushed deeply and Kirishima laughed awkwardly. Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa in the arm as Matsukawa and Hanamaki cackled, but despite the sheepish and shallow smile on Oikawa’s face, Take realized that he must have put the pieces together between Take’s mismatched eyes that matched the person next to him. (He wasn’t surprised, from what Iwaizumi told him about Oikawa before, but it still hurt to know how obvious he was to others.)

 

“At least they aren’t  _ revolting _ like you two are,” Hanamaki spoke up, voice dry.

 

Oikawa gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me? What about you two, pranking people like the meme-couple you are?” he retorted. 

 

Matsukawa snorted. “Yeah, but you two are so fuckin’ sappy it makes my teeth rot,” he adds, and Hanamaki nods solemnly. “Even back in high school it was awful.” 

 

The three of them continued bickering as Iwaizumi finished his ramen without another word, completely ignoring them. He looked up at Take and Kirishima with a bland expression and sighed, shaking his head in an expression of  _ look at this bullshit.  _

 

“You guys literally had a shitty romance movie reunion in an  _ airport.”  _

 

“Yeah, with a wedding-ring exchange an everything.” 

 

“Yeah but-” 

 

“And how many times did we have to hear you lament about about how Iwaizumi realized who his soulmate was before you?” 

 

“I swear, you were ready to write poetry about his eyes.” 

 

_ “Guys-”  _

 

_ “And _ you kept bitching about how Kageyama found his soulmate before you did.” 

 

“How the hell did he manage to find his in his first year, even? And blue and gold eyes- it looks  _ awful!”  _

 

“Says the one with brown and  _ green.”  _

 

“Excuse you, Mattsun, it’s a very earth-toned combination.” 

 

“What did I  _ just _ tell him, Makki?” 

 

Oikawa groaned as he realized he’d talked himself into a circle, and Matsukawa and Hanamaki shared a shit-eating leer. “Fine, but at least it’s not as bad as blue and gray!” he blurted, flapping a hand at Take, who froze on the spot. 

 

Iwaizumi elbowed Oikawa this time, and Take’s only thought was a desperate mantra of  _ please don’t press don’t press please don’t press please don’t press.  _

 

Surprisingly, it was Kirishima who responded. “To each his own, I guess,” he said, shrugging. “Though I gotta say, blue and gold  _ does _ seem like a weird combo.” Take sighed in relief as Kirishima pulled the attention off of Take, Take nudged Kirishima’s ankle in a silent thank you. (He tried to pretend the tiny grin that Kirishima gave him didn’t make his breath stop.) 

 

Iwaizumi shot Take a look of concern, but Take just shook his head.  _ It’s okay.  _

 

The rest of lunch was spent bickering over who was the better couple, teasing Kirishima for his fruitless attempts at trying to get their waitress’ number, and Oikawa whining as the others complained about him (but Take could see the fondness behind all of their smiles). 

 

But what saddened Take the most was the fact that Oikawa was nearly in Iwaizumi's lap (much to the latter’s complaint) or was running his hands absently through his fianc é’s hair while Hanamaki was leaning against Matsukawa with his head on his shoulder; they were all so casual and melded together, truly and irrevocably in love. 

 

Take felt as if there were eons of crevasses between him and Kirishima, the space between them widening with every sappy line he fed to their waitress. (His heart was breaking the way rain destroys the most impenetrable of stone- freezing slowly, forcing itself apart in thousands of spiderwebbing cracks until it would explode one day.)

  
  


\------

 

_**An old memory that breathes in the sleep between falling sunlight dust motes at the edges of a dream:** _

 

_ “Hey, how come you don’t like your name?”  _

 

_ “What do you mean? I like ‘Take’ just fine.”  _

 

_ “No, no- I meant ‘Yoichi’.”  _

 

_ “....Ah.” (Take pauses, something uncomfortable sliding at his ribs.)  _

 

_ “Take?” _

 

_ “Ah, sorry- it’s just… I don’t really how it’s written.”  _

 

_ “What d’ya mean?”  _

 

_ “Well, it’s just the meaning of it- it’s a bit embarrassing.”  _

 

_ “Isn’t it ‘bow’, or, er… ‘pure’, or whatever?”  _

 

_ (Take laughs, an awkward, forced sound.) “No, I wish- here, let me write it.”  _

 

_ “Wha- hey, that’s my paper!”  _

 

_ “I know, but this is a pencil, you can erase it.” (Kirishima sighs as Take finishes writing.)  _

 

_ “Oh,  _ **_that’s_ ** _ how you write it? I haven’t seen that way in a while!”  _

 

_ “Yeah, I know… it’s not that common.”  _

 

_ “But I like it!”  _

 

_ “You- huh?”  _

 

_ (Kirishima beams.) “Yeah! And if you combine it with your surname…” (He plucks the pencil from Take’s grasp and scribbles down the kanji.) “You get this!”  _

 

_ “Yes, I know how to write my own name, Shou.”  _

 

_ “Yeah, but when you look at the total meaning- it’s kickass!”  _

 

_ “But my first name clashes with my given.”  _

 

_ “Not really. Think about it… with both of your names, you have ‘bewitching warrior’!”  _

 

_ (Take shifts uncomfortably.) “Or ‘seductive’.”  _

 

_ “Sure, but it’s cool! Like, you sound like someone who can bend someone’s heart to their will! Like that one pirate queen or whatever.”  _

 

_ “You mean Ching Shih? She was a prostitute, you know.”  _

 

_“You know that doesn’t define her- she was a fuckin’_ ** _pirate queen,_** _Take!_ _You can’t top that!”_

 

_ (Take sighs.) “What does  _ **_your_ ** _ name mean, then?”  _

 

_ (Kirishima grins as he writes down his own.) “Here!”  _

 

_ “....‘Soaring through the mist’?”  _

 

_ (Kirishima nods excitedly.) “Yep! That’s why I like when you call me ‘Shou’, ‘cause it just reminds me of ‘soaring’ and bein’ awesome.”  _

 

_ (Take’s breath catches as his words settle in, and he fidgets with his hands before looking down to see where their names were written together, each part of his name separated by each other’s handwriting.) “I… actually like when you call me by my first name.”  _

 

_ “Really?”  _

 

_ “Mmhm. But not as much as my nickname.”  _

 

_ (Kirishima beams.) “I’m glad you don’t mind my shitty nicknaming, Yoichi.” _

 

_ (Take smiles softly, letting his heart dance.) “Thank you for your kindness, Shou.”  _

 

_ “Then, shall I make dinner now, my pirate queen?” (Take smacks him with the notebook.)  _

  
  


_ \---- _

 

With the beginning of the second break for the holidays, Oikawa was still lodging next door in Iwaizumi’s dorm, where Take and Kirishima were presently crashing on the couch while Iwaizumi (attempted to) start dinner. 

 

Take, with a laptop, pencil, and a well-loved copy of  _ Ningen Shikkaku  _ perched on his knee, was working on his semester project while Kirishima was attempting to work on some physics homework he’d been procrastinating on, but was more focused on leaning against Take and watching as he talked aloud his project. “So, you have to translate a certain section of the book you picked into English?” Kirishima asked, voice slightly muffled by his cheek squished into Take’s sweater. 

 

Take hummed as he flipped to the next page, dropping his pencil into the crease to bookmark it. “We had to choose our favorite book of famous Japanese literature and get it approved by Itona-sensei before we translated the entirety of the prologue; in this case, mine is about….” he stopped to flip through the pages and check his screen- “seventeen pages worth, which doesn’t seem like too much, but I have to work line by line to make sure that I keep the original voice intact while also not losing too much of the text itself in translation.” 

 

Take felt Kirishima nod against his shoulder, and he felt the faintest of smiles spread over his face as he watched those bright eyes of his skip over the lines of his computer almost unseeingly. “I can’t read any of this,” he said, gesturing at the screen, “but I’m still impressed nonetheless.” 

 

“How can you be impressed if you have no idea what it means, Shou?” Take teased. 

 

“Because I know you, and I know that you’re damn good at what you do,” Kirishima said sincerely, and Take felt the breath in his lungs turn to ice. Kirishima seemed not to notice as Take froze, and instead pointed to a section in the middle of the page. “This part here… can you read it for me?” he asked, and Take blinked. 

 

“In English or Japanese?” Take asked, and Kirishima cracked a smile. 

 

“Show me what those nine years of English study have gotten you, ya bookworm,” he said cheekily, and Take laughed. 

 

“Alright then.” Take cleared his throat, and traced the lines with his eyes.  **“I find it difficult to understand the kind of human being who lives, or who is sure he can live, purely, happily, serenely engaged in deceit. Human beings never did teach me that abstruse secret. If I had only known that one thing I should have never had to dread human beings so, nor should I have opposed myself to human life, nor tasted such torments of hell every night.”**

 

Kirishima had blankly followed along where Take pointed at the words, nodding along as Take read. “It sounds very profound, but I still have no idea what you’re saying.” 

 

Take chirped another laugh and repeated the lines, this time in Japanese, and watched as Kirishima digested them with a blink before scrunching his nose. “Something wrong?” Take asked, but Kirishima waved him off. 

 

“Nah, it’s not you- it’s just that this book seems so damn  _ depressing,”  _ he commented, poking at the worn pages on Take’s lap. “Why would you pick it?” 

 

Take tilted his head, trying to put together an adequate response. “Well, I’ve always happened to enjoy this book simply because it just takes the miseries of humankind and condenses it into something so small, and takes the idea of just not fitting in and relates it to being something inhuman- hence the title- is rather fascinating,” he settled on, and he watched Kirishima’s eyebrows raise before sitting up to fix him with a squinty expression. “What?” 

 

“You’ve got some strange things in your head,” Kirishima said, poking at Take’s cheek, “but not as much as that guy-” he gestured at the book again- “apparently.” 

 

Take swatted him lightly with the book. “Dazai-san’s a highly renowned author, Shou,” he chided, and Kirishima just rolled his eyes. 

 

“This is why I don’t bother with literature; it’s too multi-answered as opposed to the lovely single-lane answers of math,” he said with a dramatic gesture, and Take raised an eyebrow. 

 

“Do you perhaps mean the math you are currently avoiding doing?” he said pointedly, and Kirishima gave him a withering look. 

 

“Don’t give me a reason to actually finish doing it,” he complained, but Take just pointed at the packet abandoned on the ottoman. 

 

“Just get it finished so we can all eat in peace,” Take suggested gently, and Kirishima sighed dramatically, pulling it onto his lap and tugging the pencil from his ear.

 

“Fine, mother,” he ceded, jabbing Take in the side and making him shriek mutedly as he flinched away from it, earning a grin from Kirishima. “Yo, Iwaizumi- how long until food’s ready?” he called. 

 

Oikawa, who was seated at the table, relayed the question to Iwaizumi, who stuck his head out from the kitchen. “Uh, maybe forty-ish minutes? I had to restart from the beginning,” he said, and Kirishima groaned as Take laughed. 

 

“Looks like you have to get some of it done anyway, Shou-tan,” Take said, and Kirishima whined. “Just get it done and you won’t have to worry about it last minute.” Kirishima just narrowed his eyes at him before getting to work, whistling tunelessly to himself as he punched numbers. 

 

Oikawa watched the two of them with a faint smile as Kirishima shifted until his back was against Take’s side with his legs stretched over the edge of the couch, paper in his lap as Take continued checking over his lines and flipping through pages in search of errors. 

 

At some point, Take sighed and set down his pencil to shuck up his sleeve and check his wrist, only to frown before checking the other one. “Shou, do you have any-?” he started asking, before Kirishima wordlessly held up his right wrist as he scribbled down sloppy numbers from the screen of his calculator with his other hand. Take smiled gratefully as he tugged one of the loose hair ties from his wrist, an old habit that Kirishima had taken up as Take continued to lose hairbands as the most inopportune of times. 

 

He pulled his hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of his face as he looked back down at his screen.  (He never quite noticed the curious look from Shou from the corner of his eyes as tied it back.) “You really need t’stop losin’ them, you know,” Kirishima teased, and Take just sighed.

 

“I know, I know, but it’s not as if I put my hair up  _ that  _ often,” he said, but Kirishima just snorted. 

 

“Yeah, but then you don’t get to see  _ this,” _ he said, reaching up to tug gently at the small silver hoop that glittered in Take’s right ear, small and subtle in the cartilage of it. (An identical one in gold glowed in Kirishima’s own ear, an old memory of an alcohol-stained night celebrating Kirishima’s twentieth birthday.)

 

Take resisted the urge to shudder as he swatted his hand away, brushing back a loose strand of hair before setting his fingers back to the keyboard. “I’m not helping you if you keep distracting me, Shou,” he chastised lightly, but Kirishima snickered before returning back to his work. 

 

“You always get so flustered about your ears, Yoichi,” Kirishima teased, and Take felt his face burn at the comment coupled with his first name.“‘sides, you  _ hate _ math, so it’s not as if you’d sit here and help me.” 

 

“I know, but that means no sitting with you into the odd hours of the night and listening to your awful music either,” Take said resolutely, and Kirishima gasped in mock offense. 

 

“You  _ wouldn’t!”  _

 

“I would.” (Take had to resort to using every nerve of his body to nod burst out laughing as Kirishima gaped at him.) 

 

Kirishima was only able to stare back at him before a knock sounded on the door, and they both look toward it in confusion. Oikawa looked up from his phone to shoot Iwaizumi a look, who shrugged before moving to go check it. 

 

Cracking it, Take heard him greet someone in surprise and gesture for two unfamiliar people to come in, who Oikawa must have recognized as he waved cheerily at them. Kirishima shot Take a confused look, but Take only shrugged as he continued typing, hearing them say that they came to visit while Oikawa was in town and figuring it was none of his business. 

 

It wasn’t until later when the four of them had started talking that Take paused, looking back up at the newcomers to get a better look at them: one of them had to be a student there from the college shirt he was wearing, but he seemed to be polite and well-spoken as he talked, with light brown hair that was styled similarly to Oikawa’s, but what caught Take’s eye was the person he’d brought with him, who stood with his hands jammed into his pockets and a surly expression on his face, and his eyes were lined in what looked to be sharp eyeliner. 

 

However, what stood out what his hair- a bleach-blond crop cut with two solid black stripes running through it that seemed eerily familiar in addition to the sound of both of their voices. 

 

_ I haven’t met them before, but why do they seem to familiar?  _

 

Take nudged Kirishima to look up. “Do you recognize them?” he whispered faintly as Kirishima tore away from his paper. 

 

Kirishima squinted at them, before his eyes widened faintly as he bit down on his lip to restrain a sudden smile. “Oh my fucking god.” 

 

“What?” Take hissed. 

 

Kirishima tilted his head toward the one with the striped hair. “Bumblebee head- do you remember him from way back when I first met you?” he muttered. 

 

Take knit his eyebrows, straining to remember. “Am I forgetting something?” he asked. 

 

“In the library,” Kirishima clarified, “when you were sitting across from me; they were behind the bookshelves in the sports section.”

 

Take’s eyes snapped open as the memory slammed into him, and he slapped a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing out loud.  _ And assignment running too late, the sounds of pleasure in an empty library, the piercingly bright eyes of an odd stranger, a mismatched couple staggering out from the shelves-  _ “Oh my  _ god-  _ it really  _ is  _ them,” he giggled hysterically, and he felt Kirishima vibrating against him as he tried not to laugh. 

 

“What are the damn odds?” Kirishima wheezed, and Take snorted, the sound slipping past his lips as he ribs started to ache. 

 

The ‘bumblebee head’’s eyes flicked over to them, narrowing in on them. “Got a problem?” he groused, and Take tried to fervently shake his head as pressure burned in his chest as he indeed recognized the sound of his voice; Kirishima was biting his lip harshly as a smile threatened to break over his face.

 

Oikawa turned toward them, blinking. “Is something wrong, you two? You look rather red,” he asked, and they both cracked, doubling over in laughter until their sides hurt. 

 

“Oh Jesus christ, my  _ stomach,”  _ Kirishima wheezed, and Take smacked him in the arm. 

 

“Shut  _ up, _ Shou,” he tried, but hysteria made the words come out in a weak laugh. 

 

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at them, crossing his arms, and the two newcomers exchanged a wary glance. “What’s got you two so riled up?” he asked.

 

Kirishima opened his mouth to blurt something, and Take slapped a hand over his mouth before he could speak. “Um, nothing, Iwaizumi; we were just remembering something about how we met,” he said weakly, which made Kirishima laugh even harder from under Take’s hand. 

 

Iwaizumi knit his eyebrows. “Didn’t you two meet in a library while two people were… erm, having sex or something?” he elaborated bluntly, and Take didn’t miss the faint side-eye the normal-haired one gave to Bumblebee. Take sucked on his lip as a smile broke over his face, his chest bubbly with laughter as he watched the confused looks from the rest of the group. 

 

“Are we missing something?” the other visitor asked, and Kirishima snickered from behind his hand. 

 

“Uh, no-” Take started before Kirishima licked his hand and yanked it away when Take recoiled to yell a sarcastic “I’d like to  _ personally _ thank you two for introducing the two of us with your uncomfortable late-night activities!” 

 

Oikawa’s eyebrows shot up, and surprisingly it was Bumblebee who turned a deep and awkward shade of cherry as his partner shot him a sly look. 

 

_ “Shou!”  _ Take scolded, mortified, but Kirishima just dissolved into cackles as he slapped at his leg. “I am so sorry,” Take called, but he still felt amusement fizz in his chest that made the words come out wobbly between bites of laughter. 

 

A knowing smile crossed Oikawa’s face as he turned toward the two, placing a contemplative finger against his cheek to tap at is a Cheshire grin crossed his face. “So, trying something new, you two?” he hummed, and this time they both blushed. 

 

Iwaizumi sighed. “Kyoutani, you don’t even  _ go  _ here,” he said exasperatedly, and Bumblebee- Kyoutani, it seemed- fiddled inside his pockets. 

 

“Shigeru-chan, I think you’re going to break him if you keep going on such brash  _ expeditions,”  _ Oikawa said, the last word laced with enough innuendo to make even Take’s face burn. 

 

“That was almost four years ago, Oikawa,” Shigeru(?) complained, and Kyoutani removed a hand from his pocket to scrub awkwardly at the back of his neck, the action revealing a flash of a small mark on the side of his wrist- a set of fangs?

 

“What, were you two christening the library upon your acceptance?” Oikawa asked bluntly, and both of them choked, Shigeru pressing a fist to his mouth in embarrassment, and Take caught a glimpse of an identical mark on the side of his hand. 

 

Iwaizumi dropped a hand onto Oikawa’s shoulder, silencing him. “Let them go, Tooru, you’re no better,” he scolded, and Oikawa smirked. 

 

“What, want to regale them with the  _ enthralling _ time we had on the train?” he purred, and Iwaizumi froze, red flushing across his tanned skin before he smacked Oikawa  _ hard  _ in the back of the head.  _ “Hajime!”  _ he whined, and Kirishima snorted. 

 

“Seems nothing’s changed,” Kyoutani said sarcastically, but there was a faint lilt of a smile on his face. “It’s nice to see you two again, I guess.” 

 

“And you as well,” Iwaizumi said, ignoring Oikawa’s pout as he nursed his head. “And before I forget, I should probably introduce my obnoxious neighbors,” he added, gesturing towards Take and Kirishima. 

 

“‘sup,” Kirishima called with a lazy wave. “I’m Kirishima, and this is Take,” he said, pointing at him.

 

Take gave him a pointed look. “I’m Takeshi Yoichi,” he corrected formally, and Kirishima stuck his tongue out at him. 

 

Shigeru paused. “Hang on- were you a TA for Itona’s level three class at some point?” he asked, gesturing to Take.

 

Confused, Take nodded. “Yes, I helped him earlier this semester- why do you ask?” 

 

Shigeru’s eyebrows rose in shock. “That’s my class,” he said. “I’m Yahaba Shigeru.” 

 

At the sound of his name, a drop of recognition colored in neat words of pen and pencil scrawled across paper fell in Take’s mind as he recalled the papers upon hundreds of papers he’d had to grade. “I recognize your name! Didn’t you do a piece about Poe’s  _ Black Cat?”  _ Yahaba nodded, and Take smiled. “It was exceptionally well-written and very eloquent; I remember being impressed when I first read it.” 

 

Yahaba rubbed at his hands, a bashful smile on his face. “Thank you, Takeshi,” he said, and Take nodded. 

 

“How come you never say nice stuff to  _ me  _ like that?” Kirishima complained quietly, and Take rolled his eyes.

 

“Because you’re terrible at writing,  _ and  _ I happen to know you,” he said sarcastically, ignoring his squawk of “What does  _ that  _ mean?” to turn back to Yahaba. “I’m surprised that this is the first time we’ve crossed paths.” 

 

Yahaba shrugged. “Fate’s fickle, I guess,” he said dismissively, and Take watched him absently thumb over the black mark inked into his hand. 

 

Oikawa seemed to also track the motion, cocking a hip as he rocked on his feet. “What’s that?” he asked, and Yahaba froze, an odd laugh buzzing from his lips. 

 

“Just an old tattoo,” he said and Kyoutani snorted. Yahaba gave him a sharp look, and Kyoutani just gave him a level one in return. 

 

“What is it?” Oikawa pressed, ignoring Iwaizumi’s exasperated expression as he leaned forward to try and catch another glimpse of it. 

 

Yahaba just rolled his eyes. “You’re still as annoying as ever,” he said dryly, evasively,  and this time Kyoutani barked a laugh, earning a smack to the chest. 

 

Oikawa narrowed his eyes curiously, fox-like as he hummed, before reaching out to snatch Yahaba’s wrist, twisting it to see the mark. He made a victorious sound as Yahaba pulled it away with a swear, and Iwaizumi shot Oikawa a look of  _ what the fuck are you doing?  _ “Hair of the dog that bit you, huh?” Oikawa said cryptically, and Yahaba squinted at him, giving him an irritated look. 

 

“Stop being annoying, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi scolded, leaning against the counter. 

 

Oikawa shrugged innocently. “I would, but I’m sure it matches  _ identically _ to the tattoo on Mad-Dog-chan’s wrist,” he said casually, and Kyoutani’s fingers flew immediately to said mark. 

 

“How did you-?” he started, but Oikawa tutted. 

 

“Don’t think I’ve lost my touch so soon,” he said, voice sugary, and Iwaizumi sighed deeply, pressing a hand- the one with the elegant band on his fourth finger- to his head. “Besides, I already guessed you two would be matched, though it’s a bit hard to tell with your eyes,” he added, tapping under his own for emphasis. 

 

Take’s eyebrows rose as he watched the two of them look incredulously at each other; sure enough, now that Oikawa pointed it out, he could see that one of their eyes was just a hair lighter than the other one, while the other was so dark it was nearly black. It was easy to miss, but that coupled with the obvious air of closeness they held with each other was a screaming sign. 

 

Kyoutani looked ten seconds away from bolting from the room, and Yahaba just looked tired. 

 

“Though I must say, fangs of a wolf? You must be living up to your true self,” Oikawa teased, directing the comment at Kyoutani, who just glowered at him. 

 

The conversation was cut off by Iwaizumi swearing as the oven went off, and the rest of the tense air dissolved into something lighter. Kirishima looked over at Take with an inquisitive look, and Take just shrugged lightly before returning back to his project, Kirishima’s silent question echoed in his own thoughts- 

 

_ How  _ **_do_ ** _ they keep running into soulmate situations like these? _

 

(Take could have sworn fate was trying to laugh at him, and it sunk into his ribs like oily fish hooks.) 

 

\----

 

The rest of the break passed without anything memorable, as Oikawa bid them goodbye and headed back to the US, Iwaizumi making jokes about how he’d be glad for a moment of quiet. (The faint melancholy touch to his words was still unmistakable, however.) Classes started back up without a hitch, and Kirishima had been eternally grateful that Take had pressed him to finish his work as he was immediately slammed with another project, but Take still missed the echo of the holidays and cheer without a deadline to keep him anxious. 

 

He’d only just gotten back into the rhythm of school when he slogged his way through slush and miserable rain late after talking to his professor, swiping into his residence hall with shaking fingers and shivering breaths as he dripped up the stairs. He was worried he’d started to come down with something, from the uncomfortable feeling in his bones and the heat pulsing behind his eyes, but he pushed it away instead.  _ I hate the start of February,  _ Take lamented miserably, reaching out to unlock his dorm door before retracting his fingers like they’d been burnt. 

 

_ Does Shou  _ **_already_ ** _ have someone over?  _ he thought incredulously as Shou’s voice filtered through it, but he wasn’t able to hear who he was talking to. Taking a deep breath, he turned the handle with the silent bargain of getting his work and fleeing to Iwaizumi’s, only to freeze the second he stepped inside. 

 

Kirishima had indeed brought someone over, but it wasn’t any of the fair girls he’d seen in the past; no, this time it was someone with long dark hair dip-dyed in neon blue with one side shaved who had their hands in Kirishima’s hair, but this someone was most certainly  _ male.  _

 

Take’s heart lurched horribly, and something sick twisted in his stomach. 

_ (I didn’t even know he-) _

 

Kirishima looked over his guest’s shoulder to spot Take, and his face slipped for a second. “Oh, there you are, Take!” he said cheerily, drawing the attention of his visitor, who turned to look at Take with eyes the color of spider venom but remained silent as he scrutinized Take. “Is everything alright?” Kirishima asked, “you look like you’re gonna puke.” 

 

Take opened his mouth before snapping it shut, fingers tightening in the strap of his bag before he started babbling. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, so I’ll just- I’ll just go then,” he blurted, jerkily backtracking out of the door and slamming it shut behind him. He immediately reached for Iwaizumi’s door handle and yanked it open, shutting it to brace himself against it as he processed what just happened, chest heaving in frantic breaths. 

 

Iwaizumi, who’d been sitting at the table with his laptop, peered around his screen to give Take a confused look. “You good?” he asked, and Take just shook his head. 

 

“No- I-” he sucked in a breath, forcing himself to calm down- “Shou has someone over,” he finished quietly, nose scrunching as he heard his own words echo in his head. 

 

Iwaizumi knit his eyebrows. “So? That isn’t exactly an odd occurrence, Take,” he said slowly, trying to gauge Take’s wild behavior. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re normally not this upset about it.” 

 

Take looked Iwaizumi dead in the eye. “Iwaizumi, he has a  _ guy  _ over,” he said, words hushed and spoken like a phrase he didn’t quite believe. It wasn’t disgust nor horror, but something more akin to pure, soul-rocking shock. 

 

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows shot up.  _ “Oh,  _ okay,” he said, clearing his throat. “You can still chill here if you’d like; I was just gonna Skype Tooru, and if you’re hungry you know you can just grab something.” Take nodded mutely before aimlessly weaving toward the sofa, dropping down onto it, mind hazy and unfocused as he robotically stripped off his coat and dropped his bag on the floor. 

 

There was some part of him that was delighted, tiny and burning like a little spark of pure hope that lingered in the blues of his right eye, but the rest of him was numb and blank as if he was ambling around in a cotton-candy dream. He wanted to just ignore it, but there was still a slick serpent that twisted sharply in his stomach as he thought on it, oily and viscous in a disgusting emotion he’d come to experience more frequently than he liked to admit when it came to Kirishima:  _ jealousy.  _

 

Belatedly realizing that he’d forgotten the work he’d wanted to grab from his room, Take instead sighed sharply and sank into the couch, pulling out a book he needed to finish for another class and trying to drown his raging thoughts in the comforting black and white of words and words and words, trying to chase away the sickly feeling in his chest that pulled at his eyelids.

 

Soon enough, his mind was numb with the story and he inevitably fell asleep, fingers clutched around the spine of the book as he descended in a restless, blank dream that was fever-hot and shivering.

 

\--- 

 

_ ( _ **_Conversation: TACO_ **

 

**_[10:42] From: me_ **

_ hey, are you alright?  _

**_[10:42] From: me_ **

_ you can come back over now, the asshole’s gone  _

**_[10:43] From: me_ **

_ tried gettin in my pants and when I said no he got pissed at me and bailed… so yeah, that went well lol _

**_[10:43] From: me_ **

_ Take? you’re not mad at me, right? _

**_[10:43] From: me_ **

_ Take? you there? _

**_[10:44] From: me_ **

_ Yoichi?  _

 

(No response.)

 

_ Shit, he’s gotta be so pissed at me,  _ Kirishima thought as he headed for the door, stopping outside of Iwaizumi’s to raise his knuckles hesitantly to the wood. He sighed before gently rapping them against it. 

 

_ “He’s going to have his heart broken sooner or later because of him, Hajime, and you know it.”  _

 

“I know, I know, but- hang on a second. Hello?” Iwaizumi called, cutting off the other person’s tinny voice. 

 

“It’s me, Iwaizumi,” Kirishima called tiredly. “Is Take in there?” 

 

There was some shuffling before Iwaizumi cracked open the door, peering at him. “Don’t you have a guest over?” he asked bluntly, and Kirishima cringed.

 

“I did, but he turned out to be a royal dick,” he said, awkwardly laughing as he scrubbed the back of his neck. 

 

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow before waving him in. “Classes barely started and you already decided to scar the whole floor again?” he chastised, but Kirishima ignored him. 

 

“Is Take alright?” he pressed, worry pulling at his face. “He seemed a bit upset when he came in earlier.” 

 

Iwaizumi sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, but was interrupted by a disembodied voice from Iwaizumi’s computer.  _ “Is that Kin-chan?”  _ it called, and Kirishima recognized it as Oikawa.  _ “Is he here to collect his prince charming?”  _

 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as Kirishima’s ears pinked. “Be nice, Tooru,” he warned, but Kirishima heard Oikawa click his tongue. 

 

_ “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,”  _ he said sarcastically, and Kirishima knit his eyebrows. 

 

Instead of addressing him, Iwaizumi jerked a thumb over his shoulder toward the couch. “Take fell asleep about two hours ago,” he explained, and Kirishima followed his line of gesture to see the person in question, and he felt his chest twinge in hurt. 

 

Leaning against the cushions with light hair tangled and spread over them, Take slept silently, but his face was pulled tight in pain as he curled in on himself, faintly shivering. His face was flushed, and his lips were pulled in a grimace. Kirishima could see the book clenched tightly in his hands (he knew Take didn’t like it, for there were annotations crammed into every corner of the margins that meant that Take spent more time looking for academic sources instead of getting lost in it like he usually did), could see that his pale-blue nails painted in a shade that matched his hair (Always cool neutrals, never neons) were chipped and gnawed to shreds instead of the perfectly neat and elegant fingers trapped between pages, and he knew that it was all so  _ wrong.  _

 

“Oh god, Take,” he whispered, and kneeled down to brush the hair out of Take’s face, wincing when his fingers touched fire-hot skin that drew a small whimper from Take. “I didn’t even notice he was getting sick, and then I-” he sucked in a breath, pulling his hand away from him. “Iwaizumi, he looked so rattled when he saw…  _ us,”  _ he started hesitantly, eyes still trained on Take. “You don’t think… was he disturbed by it? By me?” 

 

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened. “No,  _ no,  _ absolutely not,” he said resolutely. “That’s not it at all.” 

 

Kirishima felt the knot in his chest loosen just a fraction. “Oh thank god,” he said, “I was worried he’d be disgusted by me.” 

 

He could have sworn he heard Iwaizumi laugh. “Kirishima, I think that’s the  _ least _ of your problems,” he said, and Kirishima sighed. 

 

“It’s just… I don’t even know what I’m quite doing either,” he confessed, hand raising back up to trace at Take’s face, worry still etched into his features. “I’m just kind of going blind, experimenting,  and I don’t really know what the right answer is.” 

 

Iwaizumi sighed and leaned against the table. “Has Take told you anything about his soulmate?” he asked suddenly, and Kirishima knit his eyebrows at the out-of-place question. 

 

“No, he hasn’t, actually,” he said. “He’s always been lock-and-key about it, so I never tried bother him about it- why?” 

 

Iwaizumi smiled faintly, as if an amusing secret was visible only to him. “Well, I think I’ll have you know that  _ he’s _ a rather interesting person,” he said emphatically, and Kirishima blinked before looking back down at Take in surprise. 

 

“Wait, hang on, what?” he choked, and Iwaizumi snorted. “But he- he’s never  _ said  _ anything-” 

 

_ “Kin-chan, you’re stupid,”  _ Oikawa called from the laptop.

 

Iwaizumi shot him a warning look. “You can’t even talk, idiot,” he scolded, but Oikawa just shrugged. 

 

Kirishima frowned. “I just never thought he was ever really interested in dating since he’s so focused on his studies, so I just assumed something happened with his soulmate and just kinda moved on,” he said sheepishly.

 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Get him back to your dorm and get him warm, alright?” he said instead. “It’s Thursday, so he can miss a day and rest for the weekend, so take care of him.” 

 

Kirishima nodded and carefully leaned forward scoop Take into his arms, who immediately curled into Kirishima’s chest in search of warmth, making Kirishima’s heart break. He looked so small in his arms, pale like a washed-out moonbeam.   _ I should have paid more attention to him… he never does tell me when he isn’t feeling well,  _ he chastised himself as Take shivered against him. “I’ll come back for his stuff,” he whispered to Iwaizumi, who nodded as Kirishima carefully navigated out of the room to shut the door behind him with his foot. 

 

_ “He’s such an idiot.”  _

 

“Tooru, shut up and go to bed; isn’t it almost eleven there?” 

 

_ “You’re such a mom, Hajime.”  _

 

“Remind me why I’m marrying you again?” 

 

_ “Because you looooooove me.”  _

 

“...I’m turning off my laptop now.”

 

_ “Wait wait no-!” ) _

 

_ \----- _

 

(Take would come down with nasty cold that rendered him ill for a week, but he slept most of it away under the careful eye of the ever-doting Kirishima, who stayed by his side every night.)

 

\----

 

Weeks passed after the first ‘incident’, Take so called them, but despite how his heart ached as he told Kirishima that  _ no, he wasn’t uncomfortable with you bringing over guys and girls,  _ Take sat quietly in the background as there was a new person in their dorm more often than not. 

 

It wasn’t that Take had a problem with him dating around, but more the fact that it wasn’t  _ him;  _ it was a nasty train of thought, a disgusting eel that squirmed in Take’s chest as it started to stain his insides in that ugly shade of green, but there was nothing he wanted more than Kirishima to realize that the person he kept searching fruitlessly for was  _ right in front of him.  _

 

However, Kirishima never noticed. 

So, Take decided to just let school take him away like a sickly tide of newspaper-gray water, but there were tiny blips of sparks in the waves like firefly squid that made him pause and try to desperately surface for air, tying his heart in knots. 

 

***

 

Take, seated on the couch with a fluffy blanket wrapped around his waist and wearing the warmest sweatshirt he owned (The TACO one from Kirishima old with plenty of wear and love), was scratching down something on the papers in his lap with a his lips screwed to the side in frustration. Math never really made sense to him, and the best he could do was watch as they scrambled into a spidery slurry in front of him as the equations melted away before he could try and solve them. 

 

Sighing, he set down his pencil and reached for his laptop to search for a proper study guide to help him, pausing as he heard the song that had been quietly playing on his phone die down and switch to the next with the soft strum of an acoustic guitar that rocked liked gentle waves; it was an older song by an American band, but he liked the deeper meaning behind the simplicity of the words that rose and fell in tandem with the fiddle behind it just as much as the sea the singer spoke of. 

 

Humming quietly as he scrolled through links, the jarring light of the screen disrupting the calm gray of the room. The lyrics shifted, and he felt himself start to sing quietly under his breath, before closing his eyes and joining the chorus, singing out softly to the empty walls: 

 

_ “Same old song, _

_ just a drop of water in an endless sea; _

_ All we do crumbles to the ground _

_ Though we refuse to see; _

_ Dust in the wind,  _

_ All we are is dust in the-  _ Shou!” 

 

His reverie was cut off when he heard Kirishima step into the room, freezing with a yelp as he stopped halfway into line. “Shou, you scared the  _ hell  _ out of me,” Take wheezed, pressing a hand against his hammering heart as embarrassed crept across his face at the realization that he’d been caught. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

 

Kirishima gave him a sheepish grin, setting the grocery bag in his hand down on the floor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s just that… well, I heard music playing, and I didn’t want you to stop singing since I never get to hear you anyway,” he said, and Take paused. 

 

“My… singing?” he asked hesitantly, and Kirishima scrubbed a hand through his hair, eyes focused on the floor. (Take could’ve imagined the breathless expression on Kirishima’s face when he’d opened his eyes to see him standing there.) 

 

“Yeah; it’s really nice despite what you always say,” he said earnestly, though Take couldn’t tell which of them was more bashful.  _ What’s with him? _

 

“Um, thank you,” Take squeaked, and Kirishima laughed, the sound small like the flare of a struck match in the dark cosiness Take had surrounded himself with. 

 

“You should sing more often!” Kirishima said cheerily, switching back to his normal self in a blink of an eye, grabbing the bag and dropping it onto the table to rummage through it. “Even though I have no idea what a solid quarter of your music is saying, but it’s more about sound than words, yeah?” He punctuated his question by pointing a can of icing at Take. “‘s not as if I can sing any well, so you’re all we’ve got!” 

 

Take blinked. “I…. guess you’re right,” he said, and Kirishima beamed. Narrowing his eyebrows, Take leaned back against the couch to squint at Kirishima. “What are you making now?” he asked, changing the topic. 

 

“Take, how could you forget?” Kirishima gasped dramatically, and Take’s eyebrows narrowed further. “It’s almost finals week, which meeeeeeeaaaaans…. Drumroll please-” Take rolled his eyes as he grabbed something from the bag- “it’s cupcake time!” He flourished a box of neatly-colored tubes of decorative icing. 

 

Take processed the info for a second before groaning, placing a palm against his face. “It’s been such a wreck trying to get all of this stuff done that I  _ completely  _ forgot about cupcakes,” he confessed, and Kirishima clicked his tongue. 

 

“You should really take a break, Take,” he said, “I mean c’mon, how could  _ you  _ of all people forget about my legendary cupcakes?” Take gave him an apologetic smile, but Kirishima waved him off. “Come over here, you’ve been super stressed recently and need to take a break.” He gestured for Take to come over. 

 

Complying, Take was more than happy (but still a tiny bit guilty) to shut his laptop and pad over to the table, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. “What are you trying this time?” he asked as he sat down, and Kirishima snorted as he saw the sight of a fluffy and gray-swaddled Take. 

 

“Remember that flavoring I had to special order in order for it to get here in time?” Kirishima asked, and Take nodded. “Well, this time around, I’m trying something new-  _ cotton candy!” _ he declared, pulling out a tub of blue-and-pink cotton candy and slamming it onto the table, making Take jump.

 

With a mile-wide smile on his face and a tub of cotton in his hands like an excited ten-year-old, Take felt an infectious smile creep onto his face as he saw Kirishima, with his stupid red and yellow shirt that said  _ “I’m [Fe] Man!”  _ and his bright blue eyes and his messy hair and wondered how on earth he could have gotten such a perfect soulmate.

 

(In the next second, his smile fell as the vicious thought of  _ But he won’t ever be mine  _ snapped his heartstrings.) 

 

Kirishima’s smile wavered. “Take, are you alright?” he asked, concerned. “Do you not like the idea?” 

 

Take’s eyes widened before he shook his head frantically. “No no, that’s not it! I’m fine, Shou; sorry for spacing out,” he apologized, and it took no time at all for the smile to light back up on Kirishima’s face. 

 

“So you like it?” he asked, and Take hummed. 

 

“Where’d you get the idea for it?” he asked, leaning his chin into the bowl of his palm.

 

Kirishima paused for a millisecond before he just smiled softly. “It just kinda came to me, I guess,” he replied, shucking away the bag from the rest of the stuff inside. 

 

Take knew there was something behind that response that he so desperately wanted to unveil, but he didn’t want to be more trouble than he was already worth. “What are you going to do with it, then?” he asked instead, and Kirishima lit up. 

 

“So, I’m gonna make two sets of batter and pipe little globs of the pink and the blue into each cup until I get a blotchy kinda base, right? Oh, yeah, and the batter’s gonna have the flavoring in it, of course, but then I’ll do a cool swirl of just plain dyed white icing and top it with the actual cotton candy,” he explained, the words falling from his lips like a jar of overturned fireflies as he pointed from part to part, and Take swept them all into his hands like little falling stars, precious and wonderful and  _ Kirishima.  _

 

“Think you can do it?” Take asked teasingly, and Kirishima shot him a look of faux-insult, hands on hips. 

 

“Well  _ excuse you,  _ Take, I’ll have you know that I’m the best damn cupcake-maker on this whole floor!” he crowed, and Take cracked a smile. 

 

“That’s because you’re the  _ only  _ cupcake-maker, Shou-tan,” Take said, and Kirishima kissed his teeth. 

 

“Well, then I guess  _ someone’s  _ not getting any,” he said sternly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

Take raised an eyebrow. “Iwaizumi would definitely give me his,” he said plainly. “He’s a bit wary after your April Fool’s cupcakes.” 

 

Kirishima’s mouth fell open. “That little-! Ugh, that was  _ four years ago, _ ” he complained, shooting a glare at the wall that connected their rooms. 

 

“To be fair, he ended up sick for two days because of them,” Take protested, but Kirishima kept glaring at the wall. 

 

“That’s only because he can’t handle his booze; he’s weak, I tell you- YOU HEAR ME, IWAIZUMI? YOU’RE  _ WEAK!”  _ he bellowed, and Take shook his head with an exasperated laugh. 

 

“Do you want any help with baking?” Take asked gently, getting Kirishima’s attention back to him. 

 

Kirishima raised an eyebrow at him. “Do I need to remind you what happens when  _ you  _ try and bake?” he said dryly.

 

Take blanched, remembering the fudge gone wrong that had ended with food poisoning for the both of them.

 

“However, you can help me mix colors!” Kirishima said brightly, and Take nodded. 

 

“I think I can manage that,” he said, and Kirishima grinned before pausing.

 

“Was I pulling you from something super-important you needed to finish?” he asked.

 

Take shook his head. “Just some extra work I’m trying to quiz myself on before our exam,” he said tiredly, and Kirishima frowned at him. 

 

“What’cha workin’ on?” 

 

Take sighed. “It’s just calculus; I know I’m already behind as it is, but it just isn’t making any sense to me at all,” he replied. 

 

Kirishima stopped, humming as he tapped his fingers on his arm. “Well, how about you help me with these, and while they’re baking I help you work through your stuff?” he suggested, the words surprisingly soft. 

 

Take smiled gratefully. “That sounds good,” he said warmly.

 

Kirishima grinned before pushing up his sleeves and waggling his fingers. “Alright alright al _ right!  _ Time to crank the music and get this party started!” he announced loudly, and Take giggled despite himself. 

 

“Okay, but no  Kahlúa this time!” he called as Kirishima swung around into the kitchen, cackling loudly before swearing as he hit his hip on the sink. 

 

Take couldn’t help the stupid grin that worked its way onto his lips as he watched the sunspot of his life warm up the cool gray of the silent snowscape within the room with his firefly words and cotton-candy lips like sunsparks. 

 

However, he wondered about the tiny hiccups he’d seen- the odd expression on Kirishima’s face when he’d walked into the door, the blip of a white lie he’d told earlier- 

_ What’s going on in his head?  _

 

The answer worried him, but he shoved it aside, where it would fester and hiss, only feeding that ugly serpent in his gut. 

 

(Funnily enough, though he was covered in smears of it by the time he was done, Take never noticed the particular shade of blue Kirishima had chosen to match the pastel bubblegum-pink of his cupcakes: 

 

A light, silvery periwinkle, striking but cool and calm- 

_ Take.)  _

 

***

 

**_Conversation with: Iwaizumi Hajime_ **

 

**_[7:03] To: me_ **

_ Is there any particular reason Kirishima is yelling that I’m ‘weak’ through the walls?  _

 

(Take burst out laughing, and waved Kirishima over to look over his shoulder.) 

 

**_[7:05] From: me_ **

_ Oh god- was he really that loud?  _

 

**_[7:06] To: me_ **

_ I think the entire flo _ **_or_ ** _ heard it. _

**_[7:06] To: me_ **

_ It’s rather hard to work when your neighbor’s being exceptionally obnoxious.  _

**_[7:07] To: me_ **

_ My sincere condolences to you, since you’re the one who’s had to room with him. _

 

(Kirishima made an insulted strangled noise in Take’s ear as Take started laughing again, doubled over until his stomach started to hurt.) 

 

\-----

 

Like rays of time melting the ice of a glacier, it all collapsed underneath Take, splintering and cold and bitter like the shards of a cursed mirror. 

 

For the past few weeks, Kirishima had had over  _ fifteen people _ \- male and female alike- in the dorm, and Take had barely had the chance to live in his own space without promptly being chased out.

 

Take was tired.

He was just….  _ done.  _

 

It felt as if Kirishima was avoiding him, as if Take made him uncomfortable, and Take had become quickly accustomed to the sound of doors shut in his face and awkward two-second small talk; it’s as if he’d lost his best friend to something numb and unknowing as he slept with person after person. (His own assumptions were eating away at sense of reality, warping what was the truth and what was the fabrication of his own sick mind.) 

 

His heart was full of static, and he could hear nothing but rejection pulsing in his blood and pounding in his temples.

 

It  _ hurt.  _

 

Sleep-deprivation and worry coupled with deep-seated pain had stripped Take away to nothing more than tangled hair and sleep-bruised eyes, and he couldn’t remember the last time he properly ate without Iwaizumi badgering him to. It followed him like a disease, this hurt, worse than any flu or any cold he’d ever had, weighing him down to the sea floor in a bone-deep plague. 

 

It was heartbreak, Take knew, but he didn’t care; he’d just swept it to the back of his mind to rot away into dust, but it was finally taking its toll. (He treated it as if his love had gone sour and charred, when it was truly the opposite, for it hid and burned so painfully bright.) 

 

So, that morning, after Take had slumped back tiredly into their dorm after another night of crashing at Iwaizumi’s, he made his way into their tiny kitchen with the intent of making a cup of bad coffee before trying to work on an assignment due at the start of the week; slip in and back out, painless and silent, and most importantly, sans Kirishima. 

 

However, his plan was thwarted when Kirishima puttered his way into the kitchen, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied groan, paying no heed to the icy air around Take like a swarm of bot-flies. “Oh, hey Take,” he said cheerily, words sleepy in a way that Take would normally find endearing, but now it just tugged at his heart. Take hummed, sharp and affirmative. “How’re you doin’?” Kirishima continued.

 

Take didn’t look up at him, and kept his eyes focused on his hands. “I’m fine,” he said curtly, ignoring how Kirishima paused. “How was your night? I take it it was good with your  _ guest?”  _ (Take’s heart hurt as he watched Kirishima flinch at the slip of venom in the final word, and he hated himself for his own pettiness.) 

 

“Take, I didn’t-  _ we _ didn’t- okay, what’s going on?” he asked, placing a hand on Take’s shoulder and turning him toward Kirishima. Take brushed his hand from his shoulder without a word. 

 

“I’ll just get my work and stay out of your way, okay? I won’t be a bother,” Take said quietly, turning back away from him. 

 

Kirishima leaned back into his space, cocking a hip against the counter, arms crossed. “You know you’re never a bother,” he said slowly, and Take closed his eyes with a sigh. “So what’s this about? I’ve never seen you act like this.” 

 

Take huffed before turning back toward him, a uncharacteristic hardness in his eyes that turned them into the sharp-cut edges of diamonds. “You seem to be spending more time with random people in your bed than your own  _ best friend,  _ so I figured I’d just stay out of your way,” he said bluntly, moving to walk past him, but Kirishima caught him under the arm, the touch sending a spark of coppery frustration to his gut. 

 

“I haven’t  _ slept  _ with any of them,” Kirishima explained, words crystal clear and stripped of his cheery tone.

 

Take laughed humorlessly. “I find that hard to believe,” he bit out, and Kirishima recoiled. 

 

“Take,  _ what’s going on?”  _ Kirishima pleaded, face open and raw. “This isn’t you; what did I do wrong?” 

 

Take looked him dead in the eye. “You want to know what you did wrong?” he said lowly, and Kirishima’s eyes widened. “Do you  _ really  _ want to know?” 

 

“Yoichi,  _ please-”  _

 

_ “Don’t  _ call me that,” Take cut off, voice ragged and sharp. 

 

Kirishima swallowed thickly. “Just tell me- let me fix this.” 

 

Take huffed a laugh. “I’ve spent more time on Iwaizumi’s couch than in my own bed, in my  _ own home  _ because of your  _ guests,  _ and you never so much as thought how much it hurt me to watch as day after day after  _ damn day  _ I had to come back to see you with some new  _ floozy _ on your arm.” (He could feel his hands start to shake, his throat burning as the words spilled from his lips like needles.) 

 

Kirishima stared at him, frozen from the words as if he’d been slapped in the face. “I- Take, what?” he said quietly, words so tiny and fragile that Take’s heart nearly stopped. “I don’t understand.” (A broken whisper, a plea.) 

 

Take’s hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms. “Of course you don’t,” he started, but they were not a burning condemnation of his earlier words, but uttered out of quiet pain. 

 

Kirishima dropped both hands onto Take’s shoulders, gentle but still enough to get his attention. “Take, talk to me,  _ please,”  _ he said, and Take looked away. “I’ve never seen you like this.” 

 

The ignorance in his voice, the soft confusion, the utter  _ unknowingness  _ there just igniting something in Take, and that ugly snake in his chest reared its head, and he shoved Kirishima’s hands off of him as if burnt. “I just- I can’t  _ do this  _ anymore, Shou,” he said, words wobbly and sharp, “it just hurts too damn much, and I- I have been standing here for  _ so long  _ just waiting for you to see, for you to  _ realize,  _ but it’s as if you don’t see me anymore because you’re so  _ dense!” _

 

“What are you talking about?” Kirishima tried, but Take only buried his hands in his hair, sharp and upset as it tore through the tangles there and burned. 

 

“Have you  _ seen me,  _ Shou? Have you looked at me?” he asked, the questions tearing from his throat like acid as tears started to burn in his eyes. “I’ve been  _ right here  _ since  _ first year!”  _

 

Kirishima shook his head slowly, trying to gauge the maelstrom that was soaking into the walls of the kitchen. “Take, I don’t-” 

 

“Don’t even start,  _ Kirishima,”  _ Take hissed, his words twisted by bitter tears that made Kirishima rear back in shock. “I have been waiting for  _ four! damn! YEARS!  _ and someone how you couldn’t see your own goddamned _ soulmate right in front of you!”  _

 

Kirishima froze, processing, dawning realization crashing over his head like a tidal wave, but Take was too carried away in his anger to notice. 

 

“I didn’t want to bother you, because for all I knew you only liked  _ girls  _ and I was so destroyed when I realized it, but you- you didn’t even notice that your own eyes have been staring back at you this  _ whole time, _ and I had no idea what to do because I’ve been in love with you for so long it  _ hurts,  _ but I was okay with that, but then you brought that guy home, and- and you just kept bringing more and more people over and  _ shut me out,  _ and I just- I don’t- god  _ dammit  _ I don’t  _ know-”  _

 

“Take.” (Take was a mess of tears and screaming, face flushed an angry red as hands gestured wildly like weapons or claws, but he wasn’t sure where they were pointed-)

 

“I thought that it would work out someday because fate’s funny like that, but- but  _ no,  _ no, it decided to just string me along with the densest person on the  _ planet-”  _

 

_ “Take.”  _ (He wasn’t looking at Kirishima, wasn’t seeing the tiny shift staring him in the face as he babbled frantically, a tempest in a teacup spilling over its shattered porcelain edges.)

 

“But now I’m just so tired and  _ done  _ and I just- I just- I-”

 

_ “Yoichi!”  _

 

_ “What?”  _ Take snapped, only to be cut off by hands curling in the front of his shirt as Kirishima pulled him up onto the balls of his feet and pressed his lips to Take’s  _ hard,  _ sending sparks down Take’s spine. 

 

Instinctively, Take’s hands slipped into Kirishima’s hair as his body went on autopilot, pulling him closer and kissing him back magnetically, unthinkingly, only knowing the feeling of  _ this is RIGHT-  _

 

Only for reality to crash onto his head, and his eyes snapped open, pressing his hands sharply against Kirishima’s chest, pushing him away as his heart hammered. “You- what are  _ doing?”  _ he hissed, pressing a hand to his lips, eyes wide. “Please, don’t make fun of me,” he added quietly, broken and hurt. 

 

Suddenly, oddly, bright like a spark, Kirishima  _ laughed,  _ and Take was flummoxed. 

 

Sighing with a shake of his head, a bright and breathless grin stretched across his face. “It think I just needed a little push, but… I see you now, Take,” he whispered, slowly looking down at Take, and Take’s heart stopped.

 

In front of him was a sight he’d long given up on seeing, but finally-  _ finally-  _ there was a matched set of blue and gray, the perfect inverse of Take’s own, the mark of a soulmate found as the last dredges of the blue in his right eye faded away completely. 

 

Take’s jaw dropped slightly, breath hitching as his hand lifted unconsciously toward Kirishima’s face, reaching out hesitantly toward it to gently sweep his fingers incredulously under his right eye, no longer his own bright blue but a soft, glowing gray. “You…” he breathed, not really voicing his thoughts as he saw a smile crinkle beside Kirishima’s eyes. “What?” (He felt like the sky after a storm, weak and blow apart, chest and throat raw as his heart beat against them.)

 

“Why are you surprised, Take?” Kirishima laughed quietly, leaning into Take’s hand. “After all, you said fate would straighten everything out, right?” 

 

Take blinked. “I just… I’d given up,” he mumbled. “I was selfish-  _ am  _ selfish,” he added bitterly, pulling his hands away, but Kirishima pulled it back. 

 

“Maybe, but it wasn’t your fault, I mean… it took me this long just to realize even though the signs were already there,” Kirishima said.

 

Take knit his eyebrows. “What do you mean?” 

 

Kirishima laughed awkwardly. “Do you wanna know why I didn’t sleep with any of those people?” he asked, and Take nodded hesitantly. Kirishima sighed, rubbing his thumb gently against the skin of Take’s wrist as he talked, the action sending warmth through Take. “None of them just felt  _ right,  _ and I couldn’t really figure out why, but then you started talking just now, and the pieces kinda just fit together- there was something that just made me look at you in a different light, like little tiny things I kept noticing about you: your eyes, how you smiled, your singing, stupid things, I know, but then you just kinda gave me the final kick in the ass to realize.” 

 

Take stared incredulously at him, a blush creeping across his cheeks and up his ears. “Really?” he whispered, and a crooked grin crept over Kirishima’s face. 

 

“I’m afraid so,” he teased, and Take just groaned, drawing a laugh from him. “I think you’re stuck with me.” 

 

“I’ve waited for four years; I don’t think you’re going to get rid of me that easily,” Take fired back, and Kirishima laughed.

 

He paused then, squeezing Take’s hand gently, and Take’s breath stopped for a second, eyes flicking back up to Kirishima. He watched his face shift into something darker but hesitant, and the tip of his tongue traced the edges of his lips nervously. Take felt his chest burn as he tracked the motion. Take opened his mouth to say something, but a small sound slipped from his mouth instead, a sound half-crossed between a strangled sound and a gasp. 

 

“Do you…?” Kirishima whispered, voice trailing off, hesitant but careful.

 

Take hummed before reaching back up to Kirshima’s face and pulling it to his. “Just kiss me,” he mumbled, and Kirishima easily complied, happily humming against his lips as his hands immediately slipped around to press against Take’s back. 

 

Gasping lightly, Take’s hands slipped back into Kirishima’s hair as Kirishima pressed Take’s back into the counter, pressing flush against him. Kirishima groaned as Take tugged lightly on on his hair, hands creeping down to cage Take’s hips and thumb at the warm skin that rucked up under Take’s shirt. “Oh god,” Take breathed, and Kirishima pulled away for a second, resting his forehead against Take’s as his ragged breaths spilled against Take’s skin. 

 

“Are you okay? Is this- are we okay?” he asked quietly, Take smiled, racing heartbeat humming in his veins, hungry and restless. 

 

“I think we’ve waited long enough,” Take grinned, and Kirishima barked a tiny laugh.

 

“Okay, okay, I got it,” he said, and suddenly his lips were back against Take’s, and his hands shifted from his hips to sliding up Take’s shirt, and Take groaned as he felt his nails scrape against the skin. Take’s clumsy hands were a stark contrast to Kirishima’s experienced touches that were making Take come undone, and Take’s breaths were slipping out in broken pants as pleasant but frantic fuzziness started to blur his mind. Then, Take felt Kirishima’s hands slid under Take’s thighs as he lifted him, and Take gasped before his legs hooked instantly around him. “I got you, I got you, it’s alright,” Kirishima whispered, and Kirishima carried him to his room, kicking the door shut behind them, and all Take knew after was burning touches and white-hot pleasure branded into his skin coupled with sweetly sincere words of the purest endearment whispered into his ears.

 

_ (Finally, finally,  _ **_finally.)_ **

 

****

 

Humming faintly, Take slowly blinked his eyes open as the morning light kissed his skin, and it took a second for him to register where he was: wrapped in sheets that smelled of Kirishima, body pleasantly sore as he realized he was curled against Kirishima’s chest, his skin warm where it touched his. One of Kirishima’s arms was wrapped loosely around his bare waist, and Take smiled as he saw the contrast of his own pale skin and Kirishima’s tanned and freckled skin turned golden in the sun. 

 

There was a gentle intimacy there, pastel and quiet as it hummed in between their breaths, and Take couldn’t help but smile giddily; his heart was fit to burst, its sewn edges forged together with the other half it had searched for for so long.  _ Perfect.  _

 

Carefully turning over until they were face to face, Take leaned forward to brush a gentle kiss against Kirishima’s cheek, watching as he shifted, beautifully mismatched eyes slowly fluttering open, and a bright smile purer than any precious metal ever forged crept its way onto his face. “Hello,” he breathed, soft as the kiss of a butterfly. 

 

Take huffed a small laugh. “Hello,” he whispered back, and Kirishima laughed. 

 

“I think this is the best reason ever to wake up early,” Kirishima said, reaching out to trace a line down Take’s face. 

 

“I’ve slept in the same bed as you before, Shou,” he teased, and Kirishima snorted.

 

“Sure, but it’s never as been as well deserved as this,” he said, and Take’s face flushed. “I can’t believe you managed to get me into bed by  _ screaming  _ at me and then confessing,” he added, and Take choked, shoving Kirishima’s face away from him. 

 

_ “Stop,  _ oh my god, you’re so embarrassing,” he complained, and Kirishima laughed brightly before leaning forward to pull Take back to his chest and pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, earning a squeak. 

 

“I’m horribly endearing,” Kirishima argued, and Take groaned, feeling him laugh as it vibrated through his chest. 

 

“Trust me, it’s a fact I’ve been dealing with for much too long,” Take said, and Kirishima snickered. 

 

“You’ve certainly got some bite to you know that you’re not mad at me,” he said, before tilting his head to expose his neck, “and I mean that literally.” Take blushed as he saw the dark marks that littered the skin there. 

 

“Oh god, Shou, I’m sorry,” he spluttered, but Kirishima just hushed him. 

 

“It’s fine, and I said it was fine last night, so don’t worry,” he placated, and Take relaxed. 

 

“Mmkay,” he mumbled, humming pleasantly as he closed his eyes for a second to feel the comfort around him; it was familiar to him, but reached such a different level now and it made him smile. 

 

“What?” Kirishima asked lightly, and Take shook his head. 

 

“Nothing, nothing, just thinking to myself,” he mused, and Kirishima sighed, reaching out to run his hands through Take’s hair. 

 

“I’m still sorry about, well,  _ everything,”  _ he said quietly. “I’m surprised you didn’t explode at me earlier; you’re scary when you yell like that, honestly.”

 

Take sighed. “I shouldn’t have done that; I’m so sorry.” 

 

Kirishima clicked his tongue. “Don’t be. That was the only way to get through the brick wall that is moi, yeah?” 

 

Take sucked in a slow breath before releasing it. “I still feel horrible about it though.” 

 

Kirishima poked him in the forehead. “What did I just say, Take?” he scolded, but there was a crooked smile in his words. “We’re past it now, and that’s what matters now.” 

 

“Okay, I- okay, I think I can do that,” Take laughed lightly, and Kirishima smiled again. 

 

“You’re a good heart and a good person, and you’re way too good for me; don’t forget that,” he reminded, and Take hummed as Kirishima leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead. 

 

Take shut his eyes and smiled, the same soft smile still present on his face. “Okay,” he whispered, and focused on the feeling of the warmth and the heartbeat pressed against him, and his racing mind was at peace for if but a second.  _ “Thank you.” _

 

Kirishima hummed lightly in response, and Take could hear just what he felt, the clearest he’s ever heard his heart before, and it didn’t need any translation. 

 

_ This is home. _

_ This is where I belong. _

_ This is where my heart fits.  _

 

***

 

“So… the others totally knew?” 

 

“I only actively told Iwaizumi, but it didn’t take long for the others to figure it out.” 

 

“Are you serious?” 

 

“Deathly.”

 

(A sigh.) “Fine, fine, okay, I’m stupid.” 

 

“No, no, you’re not stupid; you’re just… unobservant.” 

 

“Oh wow,  _ thanks,  _ that makes me feel  _ so much  _ better, Take.” 

 

“It’s the truth and you know it!” 

 

“Whatever, I get it, I’m the dumb one-” 

 

“Shou-” 

 

_ “But  _ I’m the prettier one.” 

 

“You’re so weird.”

 

“Ha! You didn’t deny it!”

 

“I’m not responding to that.” 

 

“I’ll take it as a win, then.” 

 

“You’re lucky that I love you; I have no idea how I haven’t punched you already.” 

 

“Aw- you  _ loooove  _ me?” 

 

“I- wait, I didn’t-” 

 

“Take, it’s fine.” 

 

“But-” 

 

“I love you too, stupid.” 

 

(Take paused before smiling, bashful and small.) “Okay.”

 

“Wha-? That’s all I get? ‘ _ Okay’?”  _

 

“Do I need to say anything more?” 

 

“....No, I guess not.” 

 

“Then there’s your answer!” 

 

“Hmph. Fine then. I’ll just have to kiss you then.” 

 

“Wait wait  _ Shou stop-!”  _

 

(Boisterous laughter reverberated through the room, bright and happy.)

 

\----

_**Epilogue.** _

 

“Hey, Iwa-chan, do you think we should go check on then?” Oikawa, who visiting for the weekend, piped up from the couch. “It sounded pretty bad last night.” 

 

Iwaizumi hummed from his spot. “Probably; I don’t think I’ve ever heard Take yell like that pretty much  _ ever,”  _ he agreed, and waved for Oikawa to follow. “Come on.” 

 

Oikawa bounced to his feet and followed him, hands clasped behind his back as they stepped out into the hall, stopping in front of their dorm. Iwaizumi raised a hand to the door and rapped on it. “Hey, is everything alright, you two?” he called. 

 

“Anyone dead?” Oikawa added, and Iwaizumi scowled at him. 

 

There was no verbal reply, but they heard faint shuffling from inside and a muffled conversation from inside.

 

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at Oikawa, who shrugged, before raising his hand back up to knock again when the door was wrenched open, revealing an out-of-breath Take who looked uncharacteristically rumpled. “What? Is everything okay?” he asked breathlessly, and Iwaizumi shot Oikawa a faintly amused look as he noticed the shirt Take was wearing slipped over his shoulder, obviously too big for him. 

 

“We came to check on you guys, actually,” Iwaizumi answered, and Take blinked, confused. 

 

“We heard yelling last night and we came to see if you were okay,” Oikawa said, and Take processed the information before flushing darkly, the color dipping down past his shirt collar. 

 

“Um,  _ yeah,  _ everything’s fine,” he stuttered, just as Kirishima padded absently behind Take with a toothbrush in his mouth, shirtless as he scratched aimlessly at his stomach. 

 

Catching their eye, he raised a hand in greeting with a lazy “‘sup,” that made Take freeze before whipping around with a hissed  _ “Shou!”  _ Shou tugged the toothbrush from his mouth with a “What?” and Take groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. 

 

“Busy night?” Oikawa teased as Kirishima slipped out of their view, the sound of a tap running and the admonishment of “Shou, we have a bathroom for a reason,” from Take. 

 

Take turned back to scowl faintly at Oikawa, but it wasn’t venomous, and Iwaizumi was able to catch sight of the dark marks trailing down the side of Take’s neck.  _ Well, it’s about time,  _ he thought with a faint grin. 

 

“Yo,” Kirishima greeted, coming to stand next to Take, crossing his arms. “What’s up, guys?” 

 

Iwaizumi’s eyebrows raised as he caught sight of Kirishima’s eyes, now mismatched in a perfect twin to Take’s. Oikawa gasped lightly and elbowed Iwaizumi with a whisper of “Their eyes, their  _ eyes!”  _ that made Iwaizumi swat Oikawa. “So, I take it you finally got a clue, Kirishima?” he said bluntly, and Kirishima grinned sheepishly as Take laughed quietly. 

 

“Yeah, guess you could say that,” he said, scrubbing the back of his neck. 

 

“Well, I guess it ended well then, huh?” Oikawa spoke up, and Take blushed again as Kirishima gave him a confused look. He tapped at his shoulder blade. “You’ve got some nice marks on your back there, dear, and one of you likes to  _ bite,”  _ he said, a teasing smile on his face. 

 

Kirishima sucked on his lip as a blush darkened his cheeks, shooting Take a withering look, who only shrugged. 

 

“Well, regardless, I’m glad everything worked out for you two,” Iwaizumi cut in.  _ “Finally.”  _

 

“That’s what  _ I  _ said,” Take muttered, and Kirishima flicked him in the ear. 

 

“So, wanna do brunch? I think we still have time to all head out,” Iwaizumi suggested, and Take brightened, the smile on his face appearing so much easier than it ever had before. 

 

“That sounds great, Iwaizumi,” he said warmly, and Kirishima nodded. 

 

“I’m starvin’ anyway,” he said, and Oikawa smirked. 

 

“I’m  _ sure _ you are,” he said lowly, and Kirishima spluttered. 

 

Oikawa got a slap on the back of the neck for that, which in turned got laughter from the others and a whined  _ “Iwa-chan,  _ you used the hand with the ring, that  _ hurt!” _

 

“Give us a sec and we’ll be right out, ‘kay?” Kirishima said cheerily, and Iwaizumi nodded. 

 

“Take your time, you two,” he said, and they both gave him grateful smiles before Iwaizumi shut the door. 

 

_ “Hey, Shou-tan, where’d you put my shirt?”  _ they heard Take ask through the door. 

 

_ “I think I chucked it somewhere into the family room at some point last night,”  _ Kirishima answered, and Oikawa cracked up. 

 

_ “Wha-? SHOU!”  _

 

“Think Take-chan and Kin-chan’ll be fine?” Oikawa asked lightly as Iwaizumi unlocked his door. 

 

Shutting it behind him, he heard another shout of “Shou!” before hysterical laughter echo through the walls, and Iwaizumi smiled. “I think they’ll be just fine.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed my sons!  
> If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask!
> 
> Comments and critiques are highly appreciated! :D


End file.
